


Irrevocably, Irrefutably, Indisputably

by ravenfyre



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ecouteurism, First Time, Foreplay, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral, mild exhibitionism, mild vouyerism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenfyre/pseuds/ravenfyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(That title is terrible.) Bro allows his little brother, Dave, to invite his internet friend over during the summer. He comes to three conclusions during that time: John Egbert is a megane shota, Dave is overly possessive, and He himself is a bad, bad man. Luckily, not as bad as he could be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're a bad man, Bro Strider

There is something irrevocably, irrefutably, indisputably wrong with you. Something so deeply ingrained into your very being at this point that it made people stop and stare at you with mixed levels of interest and apprehension without so much as looking you completely over. It was an aura you carried around with you, you were sure of it. It made people nervous and it attracted them to you all at once. It was never what they thought it was, either. The truth of the matter is that you’re just depraved. You are a bad, bad man. You’ve known that pretty much your whole life, but a new low had been reached that left even your mind reeling with its dissoluteness.

It was all Dave’s fault.

He had to beg you to let his little internet buddy spend a couple of weeks here with the two of you. Here… in this apartment where your furniture consisted of cinder blocks, IKEA rejects, and odds and ends you found on curbsides waiting for the dump truck. Here, where the floor is littered with criss-crossing cables that took Dave years to navigate without tripping over. Where you had shitty bladed weaponry littered about with a heaping helping of smuppets on the floor, stuffed away tight in cupboards as well as the fridge. Here where you both kept your own mini-fridge in your rooms for actual foods, hid juices away in your closets, and stored fireworks in the dishwasher. Where you made your felt porn videos and puppet snuff films. Dave wanted to invite this prince of suburbia boy to spend two weeks here.

You said yes only because the brat never actually asked you for anything. But when he did… when he did it usually cost you. Mostly money, sometimes peace of mind, plain ol’ peace and quiet. Like those turn tables you got him that you had to suffer months of screeching noise until your little brother figured them out. Or that phone that you still get overcharge fees on despite the unlimited texting option you had gotten him. His first month he racked up an impressive bill from text messages alone, and then the little fucker switched to instant messaging after you had switched him to unlimited texting. The shit.

But his grades were up, your vice stashes were untouched, and he passed your ironic random drug test with flying colors. He hadn't been giving you an exceptional amount of unneeded shit, either. So you let him invite his little friend as long as Dave made him aware of what he was getting himself into. That done and out of the way you let Lil Cal give Dave a congratulatory 'you have a friend' attack hug. You're sure Dave loved it. Those screams were of joy.

So about three weeks later your house is invaded by a strange being known simply as John Egbert. You thought he was Dave's age when your lil bro told you about him, about seventeen. When you met him, you assumed he had to be at least a couple of years younger, putting him at fourteen or maybe even thirteen. Later you found out you had it right the first time, the kid was just seriously vertically challenged.

"John, this is my bro. Bro, this is John."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Strider," he reached out his hand for you.

All in all, he was a pretty cute kid, in a shotacon sort of way. Endearingly messy black hair and big, bright blue eyes that were too vibrant to actually exist (but who were you to talk?) behind thick, rectangular framed glasses. Heh. Megane shota, a rare, but cute combo. He had buck teeth that somehow really... really seemed to suit him and made him all the more appealing. Were you as bad of a man as you could let yourself be you'd wreck this kid. The look Dave gives you over the twink's shoulder lets you know he's off limits. Damn. Ah well. Bros before hos, you'd let your brother have this one.

You didn't take his hand at all.

"Umm..." it takes the goober almost a full thirty seconds to realize it you have no intention to take his hand. He awkwardly lets it drop to his side and shuffles his feet. Cute.

A quick glance at Dave to make absolutely sure that you can't-- nope, that look is pretty clear. John Egbert was off limits sign with flashing neon lights and everything. But that didn't mean you couldn't give Dave a hard time about it, either. What were big brothers for, after all?

You're a bad man.

You finally lavish the kid with your attention, "Sup, lil man. So your Dave's friend?" the pointless question earns you an eye roll from Dave that you ignore. As it is, the midget's eyes light up like Christmas. Like he had just unlocked some sort of bonus level. Fucking. Adorable.

"Y-yeah! I'm John," never mind that Dave already told you that, you both ignore his eye rolls, you doubt John would even know the smaller blond was doing it behind his shades. "Thanks for letting me stay over and everything."

You let the smallest of smirks tug at the corner of your lips and you swear this kid's eyes just got anime huge. "Anything for a friend of Dave's. Especially if they're all as cute as you," and then you chuck him lightly under the chin.

He goes from Christmas to Fourth of fucking July, peachy pale to cherry red in three seconds flat. Not a bad accomplishment if you did say so yourself.

The look on Dave's face is totally worth it. Those lips always in a 'I don't care' line were twitching downward, and his brows were so furrowed they had disappeared behind the rim of his shades completely. He was glaring MURDER at you and it was hilarious.

"C'mon John, let's go to my room. Bro has to head to work soon anyways."

Oh shit, what time was it? Damn, the sun was already down. You should really let the blinds up in your room sometime. Or at least look at a clock. You’re pretty sure you had a few in your room. On the corner of your computer screen if nowhere else.

"Oh... okay. See you later, Mr. Strider," John waves as he's tugged along by the wrist, and you both ignore Dave’s muttered ‘You don’t have to say bye to that asshole’.

"Call me Bro," you flick your hand once in a wave back and the kid's eyes nearly reach full out anime and he grins, color returning to his cheeks

"O-okay, Bro!"

"John. C'mon!" Dave is not a happy Dave. That shouldn't give you the shot of delight it gives you, but you had already admitted to being the opposite of good.

It wasn't like you planned it or anything. Thinking on your feet, it's a special Strider talent. One you're still trying to hone in Dave.

The next part was Dave's fault for just assuming you had work that night. Well, technically you did have work that night, but not as the DJ in a club like you’re sure Dave assumed. You had orders to fill and videos to shoot for your other job, your website. The one that actually raked the big cash in. A job you had every intention of doing tonight as you parked your ass on your work bench. Until you heard a quiet moan. It was so soft you were prepared to file it away as a figment if your imagination, and then you heard it again.

The wall your bed was lined up vertically with was the opposite side of the wall Dave’s headboard rested against. And these walls were paper thin. It took you a couple of years to fully master moving around your own room without Dave hearing you, and your own brother wasn't nearly so accomplished.

Another soft, muffled moan. That wasn’t Dave, either. You’d heard your brother beating his meat before, that wasn’t a sound he made.

Which left only one other person it could be. John. Your brows shot up to nearly your hairline. So he was that sort of friend, huh? It was obvious Dave had a boner for this kid, but John was much more subtle about his apparent feelings, to the point where you had been sure he had been oblivious to Dave’s attraction completely.

“Dave… w-what are you doing?” Maybe he was…

Work suddenly became a lot less interesting. Lucky for you, your boss was a cool guy and wouldn’t give you shit for slacking off for a few hours. (It's you. You are your own boss.)

Quiet as the ninja you’re always accused of being you walk over to your bed, sitting on it’s edge and leaning back to rest your head against the wall, just on the opposite side of the head of Dave’s bed. Not a single spring whined and you gave yourself a silent pat on the back. You listened.

“Dave… D-dave stop!” Ah fuck… this was starting to sound non-con. You might have to intervene…

“What, you’re going to tell me you hate it?” that’s Dave’s voice.

“Well… no, but…” non-con bumped down to dub-con.

“But what, Egbert? We’re kinda in the middle of a delicate situation right now.”

“But that’s my point! I thought we were going to take this slo-oo-ohh!” John moans again, and you can hear where he claps his hand over his mouth.

A smirk plays at your lips and you wonder what Dave just did. You still might have to intervene, but for now you trust that you didn’t raise a sexual predator. A deviant you can handle, a predator, you’d have to kick his ass. Repeatedly.

“Plans change,” was Dave’s dry response.

“Dave!”

A heavy sigh. From Dave, you’re sure of it, “I just… god dammit, John! Did you have to FAWN over him?”

What?

“What?” John’s voice echoes your thoughts, “Who?”

“The Prince of Sheba. Who the fuck do you think?”

“I’m pretty sure that saying is the Queen of Sheba. Do you mean Bro?” John’s voice is just a touch amused.

Oh really now?

“For fuck’s sa—Yeah, I mean Bro. Who else’s cock were you slobbering over just fifteen minutes ago?” You don’t have to see Dave’s face to know he has that little furrow between his brows now. That little pucker of skin that is just oh so tempting to flick with a finger.

“That’s funny, I don’t even remember seeing Bro’s dick, but maybe that’d explain the weird taste in my mouth. Or maybe that's just from kissing you,” you think you might like this Egbert kid.

“You know what I mean, Egbert. You were all ‘Oh Dave’s Bro, I’m flustering like a Sunday school girl with a bad case of the vapors.”

“Who still says ‘vapors’?” You really like this Egbert kid.

“John— ” Dave starts again, but the other boy cuts him off.

“Dave, you were the one always telling me how cool your bro is.”

“That was before, and that’s different—” Dave tries to interrupt John cuts him off again.

“You don’t have to be jealous. I came here to see you, not him, right?”

“Jealous?” Dave asks, incredulous.

“Yeah, jealous. Of your own big brother, just because maybe I agree with you a little that he’s really cool. Isn’t that the point of all of this?” John’s voice is soft, like he’s trying to calm a wounded animal, making his voice even more muffled through the wall.

It only riles Dave up more, “I’m not jealous. That is so far from the point they live in different time zones. Different continents. Different sides of the world. They’ve never even talked to each other online that shit is so far from the point. If that shit and the point were to ever cross each other in a crowded street their eyes wouldn’t even me-mmnph mnh fhnn... mmnh…”

The way Dave’s rant was suddenly cut off makes you think that Egbert just covered his mouth, in your vivid imagination, with his own. The silence that stretches out afterwards, accompanied by the slightest creak of bedsprings just confirms it in your mind.

They had to be sucking face for at least two minutes straight, you were seriously considering just actually starting on your work when you hear John’s voice again, throaty and just a bit breathy, “It doesn’t matter if you are actually jealous or not. But you don’t have to be, okay?”

A short pause, probably Dave gathering his wits about him (could John really be that good of a kisser?), before he hear his not!sulking reply. “Yeah, okay.”

More silence afterwards. Yep, probably time to get your lazy ass to work.

“So can I?” Dave’s voice hesitantly asks when you’re half off the bed and you drop back so quickly, you mentally curse when there is the smallest squeak of the bedsprings.

But neither of them seems to notice, too preoccupied in their own world.

“W-what?!” you can just imagine the cherry red on John’s cheeks. So cute. Lucky Dave, finding himself a shota.

“Can I do it?” Dave asks again, clarifying just a scant inch further. So eloquent and articulate, this brother you raised. Mostly you’re annoyed that neither of them seems to want to voice what ‘it’ is. Your imagination is way too active to be satisfied without specifics.

Not that you should be imagining anything about your brother and his apparent boyfriend at all. You are a really bad man.

“I…” the hesitancy in John’s voice reminds you that you were originally listening to make sure your brother wasn’t forcing himself on his boyfriend.

“I’ll stop if or when you tell me to. I just… really want to. We’ve talked about it enough. Don’t you want to?” Ah… the sweet, sweet temptation of having your online boyfriend in your room for the first time. Still, that was skirting on really low. You might just kick Dave’s ass on principle after this regardless of what John answers. Maybe dump a boxful of condoms on him over breakfast to kick things off.

“You mean you talked about it enough,” John counters.

“You did, too.”

“Not as much as you!”

Oh god, this was getting stupid and boring.

“But,” oh, John is still talking. “I… if we go slow, okay?”

There’s a beat, and then another, and it doesn’t take much imagination to figure Dave is suddenly sporting his ‘oh shit, I just got what I wanted way too easily, now what?’ face. Like that time he came up to you and asked you for the newest iPhone and you said yes before you had to sit through his whole monologue about why he deserved it. Complete with the fish out of water opening and closing of his mouth.

“A-ah… whoa, wait… really?”

John laughs at him (and so do you, silently), “Yeah… really.”

You hear Dave’s bedsprings creak, a shift in weight, Dave repositioning himself, probably out of nerves than actual discomfort.

“Holy shit… Holy shit!” the words are murmured and you mentally slap your own forehead. You thought you had raised the little man cooler than that, but hell, you had been just as bad, maybe worse, during your own first sexual encounter. You’d been younger than Dave is now.

The bed creaks again, and someone giggles. John giggles. You had to believe it was John, because if you thought for even a second that it was Dave, you’d have to burst in there right now and smack him upside the head.

“Just kiss me, okay?” what was the world coming to that a dorky looking twink was out-smoothing your brother by a country mile?

"Yeah," Dave breathes in return and you can just imagine him visibly deflating as he tried to relax.

The next dozen minutes or so fall to silence again, accompanied by the occasional deep exhale, a sharp intake of breath, the soft squeak of bed springs when they'd undoubtedly shifted their weights. You should have started work at that point, but instead you find yourself straining your ear to hear anything building up in this promise of slow... something.

You almost miss it, the soft sound of pleasure, like drinking cold water on a particularly hot day and no one is around to judge you on the sounds of your lewd rehydration. A quiet moan followed by a sudden intake of breath so quiet you have to strain your ears to hear it.

The next one is just as quiet, a little choked back sigh of bliss, and god, would you give anything to hear it at full volume.

Apparently Dave agrees with you, because he says “It’s just the two of us here, Bro’s left for work. You don’t have to keep your voice down.” Bless his little perverted heart.

“D-dave!” John gasps in answer, and you close your eyes and imagine that his body was quivering just as badly as his voice. “Hmm, mnnnh!”

Ah fuck, no don’t. That was good, don’t muffle yourself out now. You imagine Dave just silenced him with another kiss. It’s what you’d do if someone had just moaned your name like that. Fuck, imagine if that kid moaned your name like that.

You’re a bad, bad man. But you suppose you could be worse.

Mentally cursing, you touch the aching lump in your jeans, trying to relieve the pressure and only making it worse.

“Aa-aaahn!” John moans again, the sound going up an octave half way through. Fuck… Fuck!

Whatever Dave was doing you wanted to punch him and praise him because god damn, the way that kid moans. It’s dripping with newly discovered lust and so fucking genuine in a way porn stars can never hope to sound, and it’s right by your ear, just a thin wall between you and the show that your little shit of a brother was undoubtedly enjoying.

“John,” Dave breathes out so softly, you almost don’t hear it. John answers with this incredibly soft moan that injects heat straight to your groin. The way Dave hums his appreciation a second later, you know you weren’t alone. Fuck, just what was this kid?

And when had your hand undone the fly of your pants and decided to pay a visit to the inner sanctum of Boxer Land? Boxer briefs, but whatever. Details. The point is your hand was now having an intimate affair with Boxer Land’s prime minister and lifelong sovereign.

You were spanking the monkey. Prepping your meat rocket for launch. Choking your one-eyed anaconda. Jacking off.

Another moan stalls your descent into a pointless tangent. It's deeper than any that had preceded it so far, the voice a couple of octaves lower.

Dave.

Dave moaning shouldn't do this to your nervous system, but it does, twitches of pleasure racing down your spine.

And then John giggles. He fucking giggles. It's breathless and lyrical and so god damn sweet.

"Ah, fuck! John, what are you..." Dave doesn't seem to have the strength of will to complete that sentence.

A pause, then, "You don't like it? I can do it, too, right?" The little unsure quiver in his voice, like he's asking for permission.

Oh. Oh fuck.

"Oh fuck, yes," Dave groans out.

It devolves from there, words fall away to needy moans and breathless gasps. The symphony of youth discovering someone else’s body for the first time. And you were there to listen in, each soft, quivering sound, feel them traveling through your veins like liquid heat, making your head foggy, like you’d stayed in a sauna for too long.

Blood pounded in your ears and it was hard to keep your own ministrations quiet as their sounds fell away to the dull roar. You didn’t have to hear every hiccupping gasp and shaking moan to know it was there, speeding up your own strokes in time to their pace. Pre slicked your movements and fuck, you hope it didn’t sound as obscenely loud as it did echoing in your own head.

They don’t seem to notice it, at least.

Dave moans again, a low, desperate sound, and you have to squeeze yourself hard, tremors rocking you down to your core. Fuck, it never affected you like this before. But knowing he wasn't alone on the other side of the wall, that it just wasn't Dave getting off to whatever breeze blew over him that day... imagining your little brother's slim body, still growing into itself, taut with compact muscles straining over, under, against someone else's. It did things to you. Things that confirmed what sort of depraved man you were because you were imagining your own brother wrecked and soaked in sweat under you, so close he can taste it, but knowing he can't find his completion until you allowed it. His broken moans... you wanted to record it into a personal mix you'd gladly listen to each time you wanted to get off.

It was almost enough to make you feel bad. Almost...

But then John cries out, loud, choking, stumbling over itself. The kind of moan you hear from someone who has no idea what their feeling, but it's the most incredible thing they've ever experienced.

Oh. Oh fuck. It was like he was stumbling through his very first orgasm. Reaching, scrabbling, lost in the waves of sensation and drowning out at sea.

As unlikely as that was, your imagination was off and gone. Fuck, what you'd do to someone like John Egbert, sheltered prince of suburbia. Mnnh fuck, you could get off just to watching that cute face contort with pleasure, that adorable overbite worrying his bottom lip to plumpness as he tried to stifle the sounds of what you would do to him, touching him, tasting him, enveloping him, filling him. Hearing him gasp out your name like he was moaning Dave's right now as he made a mess over himself, on you...

You bite your own lip hard as you cover your hand in sticky, translucent white strings, breathing hard through your nose. Shit, getting off to listening to others getting off, and losing it so quickly. It was like you were back in junior high.

Things had gotten quiet on the other side of the wall, Dave must have joined John around the same time you did. For a brief second you panic that you might have been loud enough to have been heard. But the silence is broken by the raven haired boy, his voice soft, breathless, barely heard across the wall.

"Love you, Dave."

Ah fuck.

"Mmm, love y'too," Dave murmurs back quietly.

Double fuck. You feel a small stab of guilt.

You knew that already on some level. Dave wasn’t really like you, as much of a game as he likes to pretend he spins, he’s not the casual sex type. You know that because you were once like that yourself. But life had taken you too far away from those days, you'd become far too selfish to go back to those types of ideals. That didn't mean that you had to lead Dave down the same road as you, though. You’d do pretty much anything to keep him from it. You’re glad that he seems to have found a steady partner, even if distance is a bitch. This is good for him, it was for the best that he wasn't trying to follow your questionable footsteps. Yeah... And you’re not going to ruin that for him, so you should just leave them alone from now on. They only had two weeks together after all.

You might be a shit to Dave to keep him on his toes, but even you weren't a big enough asshole to impede on the short time your little brother had with his internet boyfriend. Though at the same time you knew what leaving them alone would entail. Well… They were almost adults; you could trust them to be responsible.

You reaffirm the mental note to dump a box of condoms on Dave. Other than that… other than that, you’d be a good big brother and leave the kids alone.

-

No. Forget that. Every plan to be as unobtrusive as possible to that little shit is just gone out the window.

Instead… instead, you were going to kill him. Didn’t he know how hard you were trying to do right by him and his need to nut with his boyfriend? How hard it was to not be a bad, bad man and leave the twink alone when he left himself wide open for attack at every opportunity?

All you had done was grip John’s chin so you could look at those baby blues sparkling in the early afternoon light. They really were a gem bright color. Like actual liquid sapphires. These are the type of eyes trashy romance novels wrote about, large, limpid, and bright. And the rosy color of his cheeks just complimented that. The shy sputtering was a nice touch, too.

But by the look on Dave’s face when he saw you, you’d think he’d just caught you bending John over the table. As appealing as that thought was… No, you had promised yourself to be good for once. So you had hit Dave with a large handful of condoms, told him to be good and absconded from the living room, only to appear moments later with a large duffel bag overstuffed and bulging out the sides with packages you had to take to the post office and to a freight company. Orders ready to be delivered, a few rush deliveries and large items needing better service than what the U.S. Post Office could normally provide.

You’d told the kids that you’d probably be gone a few hours and left them money to order take out. You were trying your damndest to be a good guardian. You didn’t even so much as throw Cal in Dave’s face before you left.

You had only been gone a few hours. Everything had been normal when you had gotten back, both teenagers playing one of your shitty, glitchy video games, nibbling on cold pizza.

There was no way of knowing what was awaiting you when got back to your room and took your desktop off sleep mode. You definitely lost a few points there to Dave, you'd give him that much.

You’re going to kill him.

Dave knows that the cameras around the apartment are motion activated, and he knows just about where all of them are, too. He knows that if there is shit he wants to get away with doing, his best bet is to do them in the bathroom or in his room. He knows this. Not that he can hope to get away with much of anything, but why stack the odds against his favor?

And yet there he was, just a bit grainy, but pretty good resolution considering the poor lighting in the room. On the futon, TV blaring the horrible soundtrack music to some fuck awful early 90's action flick while he's curls over the and blows his boyfriend.

It's perfectly positioned, too. From each of the 6 cameras that can catch what he's doing. From the overhead, to the TV cam, the vent cam, and even barest view from the plush cam set up on the kitchen counter, Dave had angled himself to strategically block the cameras' views partially so you can tell what he was doing without seeing what he was doing. Just the bobbing of his head and John's pleasured faces. Blissed out and moaning, tortured and wanting, John was covering his eyes with the crook of his arm, lips parted, glistening, moist, drooling just the smallest bits. His shirt was rucked up high enough to expose a single pink rosy nipple to the open air. And the noises he was making! Fuck!

That little shit, Dave. You know just what he's trying to do. It's a fucking challenge. 'The twink is mine, asshole,' clear as day in every bob of his head, in every obscenely loud slurp, and in every breathless moan of Dave's name in John's voice. With a sigh, you plug in your headphones, silencing the wheezy gasps and breathless moans, as sweet as the sounds were. The best porn was usually the porn where one or more of the participating parties was unaware that they were being filmed, as wrong as that thought was. You can usually tell the genuine article apart from actors. You didn't condone that sort of underhanded trickery, but it was still hot as fuck. Just another reason to beat the shit out of Dave later. You were supposed to be raising this brat to be better than you.

You slip the headphones on over your ears, the rest of the world dissolving away to the videos playing simultaneously on your large computer screen, your eyes unable to decide which angle to focus on.

Dave had thrown down the gauntlet in the form of underage porn. Really hot, really illegal in more than one way, underage porn. Oh fuck, the way John moans sends electric heat tingling straight to your groin. A part of you wonders if Dave had done this before, if he had experience in the art of making your sexual partner keen like a desperate whore, if he just had a lucky break, or if John was overly sensitive just due to the fact that it was clearly his first blowjob.

You had no intentions of doing more than teasing Dave through John before, but you couldn't let this lie. Not that you had any intention of stealing his twink away from him, either (as hot as having your own shota would be), no. But you'd teach Dave a lesson. And maybe by the end of it Dave would be thanking you.

"O-oh! Oh god! I'm cumming! Stop! Stop! It'll! Hnnn! I-innnn in your mouth! Not in-!!! DAVE!"

For now, though, you rewind the feeds and let yourself enjoy the show your little brother had gone through all the trouble of giving you.

-

You gave them a few days peace, let Dave think he had proven something with his little video. You know, besides the fact that some traits are genetic. Like perversion, apparently.

You barely let either of them see you, coming and going in and out of the apartment like it was just any other day. Lull Dave into a false sense of security by ignoring his antics and letting him fend mostly for himself like you usually did. The most attention you’d give them was letting them know when you’d be going out at night, or giving them money for takeout, and even that much wasn’t guaranteed. You’d leave without word, leaving some cash for them to find, either set in plain sights or their reward for falling for your easily avoidable traps.

You think you’ll keep documented footage of John Egbert being buried in a mountain of smuppets in your personal folder. For posterity. Watching it in slow motion was especially entertaining. At least Dave was chivalrous enough to take the brunt of an avalanche of shitty swords for his beau. Maybe you’d raised him right after all.

As far as things went in the bedroom (or outside of it), things were progressing slowly again. Without Dave feeling threatened and needing to claim his territory they had gone back to acting like two teenage boys (who happened to be dating). Watching movies, playing video games, talking about inanely boring shit, sitting in Dave’s room, the little man on his computer and John on his laptop, chatting with mutual friends, and even video chatting together with said friends. Kisses were thrown liberally into the mix, as were cuddles (John was apparently big on cuddling). Only rarely did these sloppy make outs devolve into rubbing bodies and breathless moans. You still had it all recorded, the cameras just did that on their own. You just weren’t deleting the footage. Maybe you’d make a compilation video of it all to give to Dave as a starting senior year present.

It wasn’t until the start of the second week that you started to move. It started out easily enough. You accidentally caught John as you were coming out of the bathroom with only a small towel around your waist, and him only wearing a pair of sleeping pants as he shuffled his way out of Dave’s room in search of breakfast.

“O-oh! Mr. Strider, good morning,” he greeted you cheerfully, a morning person smile on his face.

“I told you, call me Bro, kid,” you quip back with a light smirk of your own. You’d had a long night and you actually hadn’t gone to bed yet, but a few days without sleeping never bothered you. You’d get in a few good hours before going to the club tonight.

“Bro,” John repeats, scuffing a socked food lightly on the floor, “You… you can call me John. You know… if you like.” He peeks up at you through lashes so long they were causing hurricanes in the Caribbean and you swear to god all you want to do is smash him to the wall and make him scream your name.

It might be time to find a fling. You were way too pent up and frustrated. As it is, you know you had to behave. Even if John had left Dave behind still asleep, Dave was a light sleeper and this commotion not ten feet away from his door was sure to tug at his hairline trigger senses.

You time it perfectly. “Sure thing,” you lean in and ruffle his hair just in time for Dave to see as he adjusted his shades, wearing (probably ironically) the matching shirt to John’s pajama pants and a pair of boxers, “John.”

You’re pretty sure the very first shounen-ai artist had had a vision of John when they tried to render the first moe uke blush in existence.

“Sup, lil’ man,” you nod your head at Dave in greeting, your hand still wrist deep in silken black ink locks. Your fingers trace along the edge of John’s ear as your hand withdrew, and holy fuck. John shivers and his blush intensifies. So. God. Damn. Precious. And a weak spot. You wonder if Dave notices, or if he already knew. You throw a smirk at him either way.

The tension in the air is suddenly so thick, it broke the butter knife.

It melts and dissolves away against the force of nature called John Egbert.

“Umm… I… umm… Me and Dave bought some food stuff yesterday so I thought I’d make some pancakes this morning.”

You answer him with a quirk brow and wonder if your stove even works. You can’t remember that last time you’ve used it.

“Would… you like some, Mr. Str—Bro?” John asks with his thousand watt smile.

You drown out Dave’s sudden “No,” with a “Nah, kid. But knock yourself out. I’m just got back a couple of hours ago and I’m gonna crash.”

“Oh,” John looks disappointed and you wonder if he notices Dave’s spine melting look, or if it was just you. Hmm…

“Save me some, I’ll eat it later,” and why did you want to placate that disappointed look, anyways?

“But they’ll be col-”

“He can reheat them, Egbert. C’mon, I’m starving,” Dave takes hold of John’s shoulders and steers him around and towards the kitchen.

You suppress a chuckle and wonder if it’d be worth it to check the live feed of your cameras before going to bed.

…

It is.

You had taken the liberty of installing a few more cameras around the apartment while the kids were sleeping (the real reason why you were still up). And you knew you had a few months before Dave found them all, if he bothered to look for them.

You had the perfect view of not only John’s face as Dave bent him over the counter, but of the way Dave’s hips molded against that perfect little peach shaped ass in profile, from behind and even from an upwards angle on top of the fridge.

You were a bad, bad man.

It seemed that John was responsible enough to wear an apron when he decided to cook shirtless, and the ironically pink and frilly apron probably tugged at one of Dave’s kink strings like it did yours.

“Dave!” John’s voice was a harsh whisper, “What are you doing? Your brother is here.”

“He went to bed,” Dave murmured, kissing a bare shoulder.

“Yeah, like five minutes ago! What if he hears us?” John slapped away your little brother’s hand from its southward journey over his stomach. They were like a frisky, newlywed couple. Kinky. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Hopefully you,” Dave murmurs so softly that the only reason you understood was because you grew up with him. Oho, really?

“What?!” John yelps, remembering half way that he should probably keep his voice down.

“Nothing,” Dave hums and nibbles a trail up the twink’s throat, nibbling the edge of his ear and eliciting a soft, sharp intake of breath. So he had noticed, jealous little bitch. “He won’t hear us if we keep quiet.”

His head turns then towards one of the old kitchen cams, knowing the view there was blocked. He knows you’ll hear what they’re up to, if not while it happens, later when you’d check the recordings, but he’s assured that you won’t see anything. Heh, and now the points were back on your side with a few more for your trouble.

His hands were southbound again, slipping under the apron and playing with the waistband of those pajama bottoms.

"Dave," John voice is all warning.

"John," Dave's is petulant. He nibbles along John's ear again, the brunette sucking in a breath and biting his lip.

"T-this... I..." John shuts his eyes tight for a moment and you know he’s trying to keep himself reigned in. He wasn’t doing a particularly good job, but man, was it good just watching him try. You were right about him. You could spend the entire day watching his face contort in pleasure, especially if he tried to keep himself in control like this. When he was fighting it, like now, but especially when he’d give into it, you think.

“W-what about breakfast?” he finally manages to ask.

“What about it?” Dave counters, rolling his hips against John’s ass, pushing the smaller boy’s hips forward into his waiting hand. He nips and tugs at his ear

“You… mmmnh, Dave…” John shudders, and you can see the subtle twitch in his tense legs when he finally pushes back against Dave’s slow grind. “Y-you’re the one… w-who wanted pancakes, asshole. Ah!”

"Found something I want more," Dave Strider, expert level petulant brat, "Besides, who says I can only have one or the other?"

They don't have pancakes for breakfast. You're not sure how far the two of them had taken the physical aspect of their relationship, but it was the first time you'd seen them having intercrural sex. John makes Dave clean up the mess of batter and other drippings in the kitchen while he washes said batter off his sticky and sweat coated body. Your own mess was cleaned up with some tissue paper. Aloe infused, only the good stuff for you.

You sort of wish you had cameras in the bathroom now, but even you had limits you forced yourself to keep. You were really starting to feel the fatigue now that the orgasm high was fully wearing off. You should actually try to get some sleep. You suppose you'll just have to content yourself with reliving each face and accompanying sound of bliss John Egbert made in your dreams. And maybe again on video when you woke up.

John made a special dinner for you that night for not having any pancakes waiting for you like he had promised; homemade lasagna, actually made from scratch. What a good house wife. You're sure it was the cause of the special, audio only, repeat performance of breakfast that you were treated to later that night while you tried to film new material for your website. Dave is lucky you can edit out sounds. And you're lucky you work to your own schedule. You don't think you've masturbated this much since you were in high school.

-

The rest of the week passes by in a blur of a pissing contest between you and your little brother, with John as the median as well as the prize. Lucky for Dave you weren’t actually trying to steal his boyfriend, just trying to make him flip his shit. The result was always the same, you’re sure the house was permanently permeated with a scent of their sex.

You weren’t always there to conveniently watch and/or hear them go at it, but Dave was always nice enough to make sure performances you missed were enacted in the open and under watchful camera lenses. It has become quite clear that something is pretty wrong with Dave, too, despite your best efforts to make him better than you. Some things just went beyond nurture, simply a part of one’s nature. That or you hadn’t done nearly as good of a job as you imagined you had. In retrospect, you probably should have kept the porn website a secret from him longer than you actually had.

You wonder if there is actually something to that.

John left back for Washington on Saturday afternoon. The day now known forever as The Pancake Batter Rebellion was on Sunday.

Monday, you had set up a couple of easily snapped tripped wires from the entertainment center to your shoe. Lounging back on the couch in a slouch, the string was slack until you sat straight, which you timed perfectly with John crossing across the living room to get a juice box from the fridge. Slide your feet back to let him through, straightening your back at the same time so your knees aren't jutting out impudently in his way.

He never caught sight of the string at all. And when you used your amazing 'Strider Reflexes' to catch him before his face smashed into the ground, he had been so grateful. Flushed and stuttering shyly, but maybe that had just been because in catching him, by the wrist, you had actually whirled him around so that he crashed into your chest instead of the unforgiving floor. Timing was also perfect that it was at this moment that Dave walked into the living room, shower fresh, hair still damp. You gave him a completely guiltless smirk as John explained to him what had happened. You took your convenient exit stage right a minute later.

Body worship is a beautiful thing. As is John when his body is being worshipped. You're keeping that one in your top grade stash. Your little brother, the private porn star. You're so proud. And he also managed to reclaim every inch of John's skin in his name, bonus points.

Tuesday, early in the morning you had respected Dave's privacy by knocking, but asserted your authority as his legal guardian by coming in anyways. It had been in Strider speed though, and thusly you walked in on John changing clothes (underwear included, weird but nice) giving you the perfect angle view of that plush derrière. Dave had still been out cold at the time, but the little, if high pitched noise John had made had been enough to wake him.

Watching every last trace of sleep drain from your brother's face when realization set in was like watching a fast motion video of someone painting a work of art. There are just no words. You apologized for intruding, a gesture that had Dave gawking at you like you had grown a second head. Watching that shocked expression war with his 'carefully concealed' anger was hilarious as shit.

You told them you'd be out all day, which wasn’t a lie, and doubled for a good excuse as to the reason behind your intrusion.

You have no idea what Dave did to John that day, but your mics were able to pick up muffled moans and gasps, and especially the moment John gets Dave to scream in return. Fuck, but do you like this kid.

Wednesday John caught you coming out I the shower in just a towel that barely went around your waist again. That was all on him. You just gave him a view, there was no way you could have manipulated him into ogling you like he did. Admittedly, you do have killer legs. And an upper body you could be proud of, because you worked for that shit. You think it was the lack of shades that actually did him in.

A good five solid minutes of just John looking you over passed, you’re not even sure if the twink realized just how long he’d been staring, when Dave finally came around, muttering something about what could take John so long in grabbing a video game. He stared at you in open shock, too… a good thirty seconds. And you know his eyes had been roaming over your towel clad body behind his shades. When he snapped out of it, he had actually made a noise of angry frustration, taken John’s hand by the wrist and pulled him back to the living room, game forgotten. While you had been changing you watched on your computer as Dave put on a movie instead.

Oddly enough that was all that had come from it… or so you thought. After you had left for work, Dave wasted little time in going down on John. He must have been frustrated; because he forgot to angle himself right or even block view of even the old cameras. You found out what John’s dick looked like when you returned from the club that night. It was cute, average length for his height, but thick, a dark, rosy color at the crown when he was aroused.

You also found out that Dave was quite good at using his tongue bar to make John moan his name in different lengths and pitch. You have no idea where he learned that, but you’re proud as fuck of him for it.

That was yesterday. You had plans for today as well, but they could wait. Between working two different jobs, pissing off Dave, and masturbating to two teenage boys fooling around, you hadn’t let yourself catch up on your sleep as much as you should have in nearly the entire week. You could remedy that and be refreshed when you pissed Dave off in the afternoon.


	2. In which John Egbert takes things into his own hands.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story was only supposed to be from Bro's POV. God dammit, John.

Your name is John Egbert, and you are not an idiot. You are a master prankster and you know when people are doing underhanded things. You never minded being the butt of a harmless joke, or even the buildup to a joke on someone else. It was fun, usually harmless, and admittedly funny to see Dave all mad and flustered. But things had gone more than far enough. And like hell were you going to let this pissing contest between the blonde brothers dictate how you share one of the most intimate moments you'd ever share with your significant other for the first time. You're not sure how conscious Dave is of his actions, if he knew he was being a giant dillweed by letting his jealousy dictate the level of intimacy they should be at, or if it was all just subconscious on his part, but it all had to stop.

So you decide to take things into your own hands. Dave always wakes up well after you, which is fine. In fact, it's perfect. Your boyfriend had been seeing to your needs a lot during your stay in Chateau Strider. It was time that you returned the favor. You knew Dave had more experience than you. When you were still going strong in your no homo phase, he had met a boy whose dad was in the army. Tavros Nitram. Dave had told you about how the two of them had experienced a lot together, fumbling around awkwardly, learning what was good and not so good together. Usually at school. Or Tavros's place ( and honestly if things were always like this here, you completely understand why).

You didn’t want to say that you were jealous… but let’s be honest, you’re totally jealous. Not that you hold it against Dave, it was no one’s fault but your own that you had entrenched yourself so deeply into the closet that you were having tea with Mr. Tumnus. You couldn’t have expected Dave to just dedicate his devotion to you at a time when you wouldn’t even acknowledge your feelings for him even to yourself.

But eventually Mr. Nitram had been reassigned and Tavros had to go with him. They had decided to end things amicably, they still chatted once in a while even now. You joined in on a video chat once, you and Dave, Tavros and his new boyfriend, Gamzee (who you honestly think looks like a former stoner turned wheatgrass juice hippie). It had been nice.

Wait… why were you thinking about all of this now?

Oh, right. You’re lack of experience compared to Dave. Boy, that had been a weird tangent. Dave had pretty much been in charge of every sexual escapade so far, for the most part, anyways. But you don’t think he’d mind if you took a bit of initiative.

Your heart was beating so loudly you could feel the pulse in your ears. What if Dave didn’t like what you did? What if he laughed? Or worse, he didn’t react at all because there was no hope for even the smallest bit of improvement? What if he hated it?  
N-no… no, Dave wouldn’t hate it. He hadn’t hated anything you had done with him so far. In fact, you’re pretty sure that he had really liked a lot of it. You didn't want to be smug, but you had even gotten him to scream. That's right! Dave seemed to like all that you've done so far, so there's no reason to lose confidence now. With that thought in mind, you carefully shift on the bed. It was amazing that Dave could wake at the slightest movement from his brother, but when it came to you and your bumbling, he slept like the dead.

It was hot as fuck, fuck Texas and its summers, but it meant Dave slept in only a pair of boxers and the sheets were always kicked off the bed sometime in the night. Onto the air mattress you've supposedly been sleeping on, but haven't once in your near two weeks in the Strider residence.

Trying to position yourself was awkward, staying balled up at the end of the bed made your legs cramp up at the knees and made your back ache, so you lay on your side, your feet by Dave’s head, and you curl a little against the wall, and it's not perfect, but it's better.

Dave still hasn't woken up. Good. You lick your lips and for a moment just stare at what you're about to try to tackle. Morning itself already got the job started for you, but you weren't going to half ass this anyways. You lick your lips again and worry your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to keep your breathing normal and your heart rate steady.

...  
Fuck it. You lean over, breath warm and moist as it ghosted over the material of his boxers (black with red lining). You lean in closer, taking a deep breath, inadvertently breathing in Dave's scent deep, nose bumping against the lump in his underwear in a miscalculated move that gets Dave's breath to quicken just a bit anyways.

You look up. He doesn't wake. You sigh softly in relief, and then gasp when the tenting in Dave's boxers twitches. The warmth of your breath was seeping into the cloth and apparently having a pleasant reaction on your boyfriend. A small one, but it was a start. With a smile you puff another warm breath over the soft cotton material, leaning in to mouth over the growing tube trying to find its way out of confinement. It draws a low, long sigh from Dave's lips, and encouraged, you press your lips to the cloth covered tip, lips parting to boldly flick your tongue over it, wetting the material.

Dave's cock jumps under your mouth and it’s such a gratifying feeling. You can understand why Dave liked to make you cry out his name, because now you wanted to do the exact same thing to him. You mouth over the growing length, covering the cloth in wet, open mouthed, sucking kisses, and you could feel each of Dave's thigh muscles jump under your hands. His hips twitch up and he moans, low and breathless.

You can't help but wonder if it’s normal that just this was making your hard. Doesn't matter. You ignore the growing ache between your legs to indulge Dave's instead. Your hands smooth up his legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling down, the friction making Dave shudder under you. His hands are suddenly clutching the back of your head tight and he moans your name. Your breath catches in your throat, staring down in shock, as much as you can with Dave's hands pushing you down. He was... still asleep.

"Mmm, John..." He moans your name and the small hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

"Dave," you breathe back in response and kiss the crown of his cock when it's finally exposed.

You gently suck the bead of pre that wells up at the tip. It's salty on your tongue, but not really bad. You part your lips a little, enough for the Dave's cock head to push past your lips with the smallest bit of resistance before you open your mouth wider so you didn't scrape your teeth over the sensitive length, dragging another moan from the blond, followed by a choked curse that has you looking down again.

Blood red eyes are staring at you in shock. "John?! Holy fuck!"

You can only look down at him timidly, eyes half lidded, then lean back down to take a bit more of him into your mouth. The response is immediate and overwhelming. Dave curses again, and his hips buck up hard, making you choke and draw back, cough, eyes watering a little.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, man I’m sorry. I didn’t… are you okay?” Dave tries to pull you back around to face him, but you squirm in his hold enough that he knows to stop. You didn’t look your most attractive right now. Really, who liked the red faced, crying look while you shake with stifled coughs? Completely unsexy.

“I’m… o-okay,” you manage to wheeze out; taking a deep breath after that to try to stop said wheezing. “Well… I mean, besides completely embarrassed,” you tilt your head just a little to catch his eye with your watery blue. “So much for a sexy surprise, huh?”

“God damn,” Dave breathes out, still staring at you in awe, “What… I mean, I don’t…”

“Don’t what?” you ask, quirking a brow. Your breathing was starting to get back to normal.

“I mean … why?”

“Why… did I do that?” you shrug, looking shy, “I just… wanted to make you feel good.”  
Dave groans and even though he was already lying out on the bed, he managed to flop back completely, “Holy shit, Egbert, are you trying to kill me?”

“I wasn’t that bad!” you huff, indignant. Kill him? You had been so careful, you hadn’t even touched him with your teeth.

“Not that bad, he says… Not that bad,” Dave starts muttering.

He suddenly takes hold of your hips and drags you over so you’re on top of him, your crotch in his face. You squeak, and fuck, you can swear your face is burning a bright, tomato red, “D-dave?!”  
“Shut up, John. You started this,” already he’s pulling your pajama bottoms down along with your underwear.

O-oh!

“Oh,” your heart rate picks up, and your arousal comes back full force as Dave maneuvers your clothes off one leg, then the other, leaving you naked on top of him.

“That all you got to say?” Dave asks, a smug little smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You reply by rolling your eyes and ducking down to take the head of his cock back into your mouth, smiling around the hissed curse and the sucked in moan.

“You little shit,” you hear the amusement mixed with pleasure in Dave’s voice.

You weren't prepared for the sudden wet heat of Dave's mouth engulfing half your length in one fluid motion, but you should have. Dave wasn't prepared for the vibration of the low moan you gave in answer, though he probably should been have, too. You didn't want to be left behind, so with a small hum you take another inch of Dave into your mouth, and then another, making sure you kept you teeth tucked away under your lips, and suckling slowly. It was tricky, especially with the height differences between you, but Dave curled up a bit to give you more leverage. He was always thoughtful like that. He was thick, and you could feel more pre dripping onto your tongue, hot and salty, pooling under, a thin line of drool trickling down your chin.

"Mmmgh, mmn... hmmm," the little sounds left you as he returned the favor and then some, muffled around thick heat, and your hand curls against Dave’s hip, the other squeezing, pumping up and down the base of his length.

Oh god, whatever Dave was doing, you doubt you were doing anything even a tenth as good. You don’t have a tongue piercing like him after all. And dear lord, what Dave can do with that tongue bar! It shouldn’t be legal! You’re shaking on top of him, your knees threatening to stop holding up your weight, and your hips rocking shallowly. He didn't choke on you while you did it, either. Fuck, Dave was still taking more of you into his mouth, guiding your hips lower. You could feel your tip gliding along his soft palate. Oh god... oh god, his tongue, and the suction and... and...

And then it was gone, Dave's panting breath cool on your wet skin.

"F-fuck! E-egbert, who taught you how to do that?"

What? You pause, and the needy whine it draws from Dave is enough to make your toes curl.

Oh...  
While you had been so preoccupied with the feeling of Dave slowly but surely taking the entirety of your dick in his mouth, you had distractedly kept up with the timid motions and careful suction of his length in your own. And somehow your tongue had slipped under the fold of his foreskin. The skin beneath it felt different, smoother somehow, warmer, the taste just a bit different, stronger. You slide your tongue just a little bit, curling up the sides of the agile organ so that the tip of your tongue better cradled the head, humming softly. The reaction is startling. Dave’s hips jerk hard, you barely keep up with the motion to keep him from choking you again, or worse, slamming his dick hard against your front teeth. He moans, deep and low, the sound muffled when he bites his lip, his thighs quivering hard under your hands. It’s sends tiny shockwaves down your spine.

"Oh shit, holy god, John, you're gonna kill me, I swear to fuck…"

You can tell he means that in a good way this time, so you press your tongue in just a bit deeper, sliding under his foreskin to gather more of that thicker taste, swirling, pressing up Dave’s tip to the roof of your mouth and then sucking hard.

“John!”

You hum around him in answer. His nails bite into the soft flesh of your ass, and you suck in a sharp breath through your nose. He massages and kneads the fleshy area afterwards, as if trying to soothe the sting away. You mewl, and rock back into the feeling, because it’s oddly nice. You never thought you’d like your butt being touched as much as you actually do. It made you blush darker than ever now just remembering how much you liked it. Not just your butt, but more specifically, your butt hole. You found that out during your stay here. You’d been very reluctant at first, but Dave was so good at convincing you. You’re kinda glad he did.

“D-dave,” your voice is so thick and raspy, you didn’t recognize yourself at first. You pressing little smacking, sucking kisses to the tip of Dave’s length, flicking your tongue against the flared head as you pull the foreskin down.  
“Whatever it is you’re gonna ask: yes, just yes. As long as you don’t stop doing what you’re doing,” Dave groaned, especially when you lap up the salty bead of pre that was welling up at the tip.

“I… umm… you remember the other day? Tuesday…?” your voice was shaking, cracking like you were going through the start of puberty all over again.

“Mm, you mean the day you flashed Bro your ass? Ow! Fuck, do that again.”

You do bite his thigh again, harder the second time, huffing since it only got Dave to moan louder, “That’s not what happened, and that’s not what I mean. Shut up about Bro for a second, you’re gonna make me jealous.”

“I’m gonna make you—?! Unnh!”

“Dave, I said shut up!” You bite higher on his thigh, close to the seam where leg met hip, the hissing sound is gratifying. “I mean what happened after that… that thing you did with your finger…” You wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Dave could feel the heat of your blush on his skin.

“… John…” Dave’s voice is carefully neutral, “Are you saying that you want me to finger fuck you?”

You don’t think words alone were supposed to get you to tremble like that. “Mm-hmm,” you don’t trust your voice right now.

“You want me to slip my fingers inside your plush ass, one by one, open you up slowly?” the careful neutrality of his voice was giving way to smug satisfaction, “Rub your insides and stretch your virginal little fuck hole till you cum all over my face without having to touch your dick…”  
You want to protest the language, but when you part your lips all that comes out is an embarrassing, whining moan. Your body furthers that betrayal, cock pulsing hard and you just know a heavy drip of precum just puddled itself on Dave's chest. Holy shit, it wasn't fair that the blonde knew just how to push all the right buttons. Buttons you hadn’t even known you had until you came here to Texas. You should have spent more time learning Dave's weaknesses.  
"You like that, huh?" Dave's voice was practically a purr. "You like it when I talk dirty. Calling your body slutty, telling you how eagerly your desperate little hole swallowed my finger up last time, didn’t want to let me go. You loved it, every second of it. And you love when I tell you all the things I wanna do to you just to hear you moan my name." His voice had become a throaty, low rasp, and it shouldn't make your entire body tingle. It shouldn't.

"Dave..." you breathe like you're dying of thirst and he's your oasis in the desert.

"Man, the things I want to do with you, to you. I want to ruin you for everyone else, Egbert. Take everyone else off your radar completely. I want you to see only me. You can't even understand it, the level that this goes down to. I want you to crave me like you crave air to breathe, to stay up lonely nights in Washington where all you can do is think of me and all the things that only I can make you feel. And I want you to touch yourself whenever you think about me, shove your fingers inside yourself, wet with sweat, hot, and desperate, ride them like a five dollar whore, call my name, and cry because just pretending it's me isn't enough to satisfy you and there's nothing you can do about it."  
The noise that escapes you is inhuman, harsh, high, and keening. Your knees are shaking and it's all you can do to keep from buckling under the weight of your own lust and smothering Dave with your ass. Little did he know you sort of do a version of what he just described already. Not the butt thing, that’s still new territory, the rest of it is still true, though. But hearing him being so possessive of you... It turned your bones to gelatin and your muscles to goo. The filthy words in between were like electrical currents misfiring in your brain, sparking over your body and lighting up the pleasure center in ways that should be impossible.

“Dave… please!” you think those are the only two coherent words left in your vocabulary, but it does the trick. With a final, long lick from the dripping tip of your length to the base, Dave eases you off him, turns you around like you’re weightless, sets you down to straddle his lap. For a moment you’re facing each other, and you don’t waste time in claiming his lips hungrily, the taste of yourself mixing with the taste of him already thick on your tongue.

“Mmm, hnnn!” you can’t be sure who exactly is making that noise, but it’s of little consequence right now. Your hips grind down on his, the slick heat of his length gliding smooth against your cleft where you swear you could feel it pulsing, bumping against your perineum with tiny surges of tingling bliss. And you would have been content to stay like that. To keep frotting against him until you both came, but the sudden touch of cold lube coated fingers down there brings your rocking to a yelping stand still. When had he…?

His chest and shoulders shake with silent laughter and you huff and nip at his bottom lip. God damn ninja Striders.

The lube tingles cool on your skin, warming up as his fingers rub it in, then hotter in soft pulses. Oh god, just what did he put on you???

“D-dave!” you gasp out his name, a tremble in your voice and down your spine, bucking down hard against his hips, and then eagerly back to those teasing digits. He dribbles more over your skin, over his fingers while they rubbed your secret, tender flesh into relaxation. Until the touch no longer felt weird and started to feel good, drawing out mewls that you breathed into Dave’s air, breathing in his soft moan in return

The world was spinning and he had just barely started touching you. Or maybe it was the fact that you were now lying with your back on the bed. That could definitely be it. You look up into mischievous, lust blown, bright red eyes, and god, Dave should go without his shades more often.

He lowers his head, his breath hot against your throat, the shell of your ear. “How badly do you want it, Egbert?” his fingers crook forward, a fingertip pressing against the pucker of your entrance, slipping in just enough to get your muscles jumping again, coating just a bit of the inside with that tingling cool that would inevitably turn pulsing hot. He draws back, then teases again, not going any further. He dribbles liberal amounts of extra lube while his fingers ease you just open enough that it spilled in. You keen, back arching, you can’t help it. But he stops again, just pressing lightly, so lightly, taunting you with what you want.

Nnngh, fuck! He can’t be doing this. He can’t be teasing you this way. But he was. You whine his name and wiggle your hips back and up, wanting more, demanding more without words. And your only reward is Dave drawing his fingers away completely, when he has you pulsing and throbbing for him.

“John,” his voice is teasingly reprimanding.

“Nooo,” you whine back at him, covering your face with your arm, like that would save you from his gaze. “You can’t do that! You’re not allowed to do that. Don’t make me beg, Dave. I swear to god, I will kick you. Just… just do it! Stick your fingers up my butt already! Press that special spot that makes me wanna cum. Just do that and stop being a dick!”

A pregnant pause falls between the two of you. You can feel Dave’s stare, even though you couldn’t see it. Oh god, what did you just do? Today seemed to be the day where you say things you can’t believe. You want the mattress and the floor to split open and swallow you up until you could hide in the center of the earth. It’s worse when Dave laughs, but it gives you the courage to meet his gaze in a glare of blue on red.

“Don’t laugh! You jackass, this is—!” Whatever words were prepared to spew themselves from your mouth were cut short by hot, insistent lips and an agile tongue that sapped your anger and your very will. The bubbling heat evaporates into a soft, long moan, tense muscles melting again, feeling like a puddle under Dave’s sure weight.

“God damn, but you’re so fucking adorable, Egbert. You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?” Dave murmurs against your lips. You get the feeling you have an idea if it’s even remotely like the way he was making you feel now.

But he was still stalling, so you nip at his bottom lip, “Stop teasing me, you asshole.”

He chuckles, “As you wish.”

You want to kick him just for the smugness in his voice, but then he’s pressing inside you. A single digit easing its way in, still foreign enough that it made you squirm and your muscles involuntarily contract, wanting to push the intrusion out. It's more uncomfortable than painful, but you knew what would come next, so you endure until you could feel it, biting your lip to keep from making any sound of discomfort. The last thing you wanted was for Dave to stop.

"John, breathe," Dave's voice is soft and warm against your throat.

You hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath until then, but your lungs were burning when you sucked in a sudden, harsh breath. Soft, lightly chapped lips brush soothing lines along your throat, your cheek, down to your ear, whispering soft assurances.  
"Breathe, baby. You have to relax," he doesn't remove his finger, curling and relaxing lightly inside you until you started to get used to the feeling. The pulsing heat of the lube helped ease your muscles and it wasn't long before your ragged little pants became long, even breathing again. "That's it, just like that. God, your gripping me tight. You should see it, you’re all pink down there. And fuck, you're gripping my finger tighter now, pretty hard to move it, John. Doesn’t that hurt? Or does it feel good? Oh shit, you like it, huh? You like it when I give you the play by play? Or when I describe you down there? All hot and pink and gripping around my finger. Nnh! You just squeezed down pretty hard there. You embarrassed, Egbert? You asked for it."

You couldn’t answer him, though you knew your face had to be cherry red at this point. What was he doing to you?! You whimper softly and you think he understands, because he stops teasing you.

You've adjusted to the intrusion, but it still felt weird to have something touch and rub insistently on your insides. You can feel him pushing in deeper, exploring you further. But it's starting to feel good, a slowly building feeling of... something that's strange, but not bad. Like an urgency, a craving for something you couldn't think of.

You moan when you feel the bump of Dave's knuckle against the outer ring of muscle. His finger was as deep as it could go inside you.

"Dave," you sigh his name, heavy arms lifting to hook themselves around his neck.

You get a rare smile from the Strider that makes your insides squirm pleasantly. "Feel good?"

"Mmm," you hum in lazy assent.

"How about..." his finger rubs, explores, finding that sweet bundle of nerves that makes stars break out across your vision, "now?"

Liquid heat shot up your spine, ignited by misfiring sparks from nerve endings screaming ‘oh god, too much’ and ‘so good, more’ all at once. Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel like you were going to scream, but you couldn’t. A strangled, desperate shudder of a sound was what came out instead.

“Looks like I found it,” the younger Strider stares down at you, eyes half-lidded, lust bright. Those eyes rove your body from head to toe, and you know he’s taking in each twitch and muscle spasm before they meet and hold your gaze again.

You suck in a sharp breath, back arching when he does it again, and this time you had sufficient oxygen to moan for him, “Dave!”

He shushes you softly, then claims your lips with his own, hot and savage, dominating, sucking your soul right out of you with a skillful tongue. It made breathing harder, like your body forgot you had a more natural way of acquiring oxygen. The world spun for a moment, going light and fuzzy around the edges, but you didn’t dare pull your lips from the blonde’s, to break the duel between slick tongues, swallowing every sound the Strider submitted directly into your mouth like the sweetest honey.

In the end, Dave breaks the kiss first, sucking in starving breaths. You breathe each other’s air, keeping your vision fuzzy. You stare at him for a long moment, everything surreal through the growing fog on your glasses.

You just barely notice the upward tick on Dave’s lips before you cry out again, vision exploding with sparklers. You’re not sure when exactly Dave had managed to work in a second finger, which was twice the amount of fingers he had used last time. You hadn’t felt it until they rubbed against your sweet spot again with added pressure.

“DAVE!” a distant part of you knows that you should be quieter than this, but it was funny how little that part of you seemed to matter right now.

Your hips rock back desperately, impaling yourself harder on Dave’s fingers, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and neck so that he doesn’t dare try to get away from you. Your nails dig crescents into his shoulder blades and he grunts, rubbing faster, more insistently, which in turn only drives you wilder under him.

"Dave... Dave! Dave, please," you mewl his name between ragged breaths and quivering moans.

Your vision is floating, bobbing from the ceilings posters to Dave, to the darkness behind your eyelids, to the wall at the head of Dave's bed.

"You're beautiful like this, do you know that? So god damn gorgeous. Flushed, disheveled, fuck drunk, and moaning my name. I could watch you like this all day," Dave's voice is low and breathless, stuttering at the oddest times.

You know he's touching himself by the way his breath hitches between each lungful of words. And just the memory of that turgid flesh pressing slick and hot against your own, scoring hot lines between your thighs, just nudging that tender area where his fingers were digging you open, where he was carving himself into you and it was the most amazing feeling in the world.

"Daaaave, Dave, oh god, Dave!" You rock back against his fingers, wanting more, needing him more, so much more! Your carefully lift a leg between his, licking your lips on a crooked smile when your ankle and the top arch of your foot rubs against his sac.

“Nnn, fuck! You little tease…” he doesn’t do anything to stop you, though. Instead he curls his fingers in again, massaging that sweet spot inside. You cry out, hips canting up wildly.

“John, are you gonna cum like this? Bucking bronco on my fingers without even so much as touching your dick? Feel that good inside you, huh?” He taunts you, but there’s something in his voice, harsh, breathless rasps, something reverent and desperate, and overwhelmed. You knew that if you opened your eyes right now, looked upon his face, you’d see his carefully crafted composure would be nowhere to be found.

But he’s right. You’re about to lose it completely just from the press of his fingers against your magic button, the rough friction of calloused fingers gliding over slick inner muscles. They flutter and tighten, squeezing, relaxing around those intruding digits, and Dave is cursing under his breath. Just a little bit more, but everything inside you screamed that this wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.

“I… Dave, I…” was that really supposed to be your voice? The sound that comes out of you is such a deep rasp, so you swallow down a moan, trying to parch your dry throat with the overabundance of moisture flooding your mouth. “I’d rather… c-cum… f-from having your dick inside me.”

Everything goes stock still, and you immediately regret uttering the words. That was the dumbest… what was wrong with you? You can’t believe you actually said that!

On top of you Dave moans, a stuttering sound, and he slumps forward like someone had cut his strings, his body curled over your own, “Tell me you’re joking. Tell me you don’t mean it. Say it!” the words rush out of his mouth in a barely recognizable jumble.

“W-what?”

With a desperate sound like a growl he plunges three fingers in deep to the last knuckle, brutalizing your sweet spot before your mind even has enough time to register the pain of being stretched wider so suddenly, until everything is stars and you can’t even scream anymore.  
“Nnnh, fuck... Egbert... tell me to stop. Tell me that you didn’t mean it. Tell me before I can’t stop myself anymore. Fuck, please.” The wild glint in those red eyes shakes you to your core, freezes your veins and melts your brain at the same time. “You can’t say it if you don’t mean it...”

You realize the long whining sound is coming from you, and you yank Dave’s head down towards yours, kissing him desperately, with all the lust he’s drowning you in. “I... I want it, Dave... I want you... Please... Please, put it in me, be with me, I love you!” It’s so hard not to babble, but you think you did a good job.

You didn’t expect Dave to pull back from you like you just struck him. You’re actually a little hurt from how quickly and eagerly he puts space between the two of you.

“Dave?” you sit up carefully and reach out to him, like you’d try to touch a nervous animal you were trying to calm without being attacked. He’s muttering, fast, and soft, and low. You can’t catch a word of it, but you finally notice the look on his face. He’s... he’s nervous. As nervous as you are, maybe more. “Dave, if you don’t want to, we don’t have t—”

“Of course I want to! I’ve wanted to since—” he cut himself off, shaking his head, switching gears, “How could I not want to?”

“Then why are you telling me to stop?” you gently rest your hands on him, one on his shoulder, the other cupping the back of his neck.

“I’m not telling you to stop. I’m telling you to stop me,” Dave countered.

“Wow, well that clears everything up. Thanks for that.” A part of you knows that now might not be the best time for sarcasm, the rest of you is quickly getting too angry to care.

“John,” his tone is reprimanding again, but all the teasing is gone. “Don’t you get it? How long have we been dating?”

“What? You mean officially? I don’t know, maybe two months, almost three,” why was he bringing this up now?

“Yeah, and when you got here, you were balking at just the thought of having my hand down your pants. I had to talk you into letting me get acquainted with little John.”

“Robinhood’s sidekick?” your tone is completely innocent, and so is your expression. You scoot a little closer to him again, starting to close the distance he put between the two of you.

“For fuck’s sake, John,” Dave looks about ready to shove your face away.

“I was nervous, Dave! No one has ever touched me like that before, okay? I’m allowed to be nervous the first time a hand that isn’t mine touches my dick,” especially when that someone is a guy, but you don’t think saying that will help your argument. “And where is this coming from all of a sudden? You didn’t have this reservation every other day that I’ve been here, why now?”

“This is different!” Dave said, exasperated. He yanked his fingers roughly through his sleep tousled hair.

“How is it different?” you counter childishly.

“Because I’ve never done this before, either!”  
The silence in the room is deafening after that. You let your hands fall away, suddenly feeling like you’ve been taking advantage of Dave this whole time. Since the moment you decided to put this little plan into action. “Dave, I’m sorry... I... if you don’t want to, you can just say so... I... I mean... it’s not like I’ll hate you if you say no, or something. You know that, right?”

“Oh my god,” Dave nearly wailed, slapping his hands over his face, hiding his eyes, “We’re not having this conversation. We can’t be.”

“Dave,” you start, but a shake from the blonde’s head stops your words in their tracks.  
“I told you, John. It’s not that I don’t want to... fuck, I really want to. I’ve wanted to do this with you since I was twelve!”

You could feel a blush burst over your cheeks in a sudden explosion of intense heat, “Then what–?”  
“Because! I’ve saved myself with just the hopes of this in mind. Don’t you get it, John? Not even six months ago, you were still full out 'no homo, Dave!’ And then one day you changed your mind, like a switch had been flicked. This impossible hope, and here it is, like something too good to be true. You suddenly change your mind, and here we are, and–” he tapers off, and you can see Dave struggling to find the words. He shakes his head and fists his hand through his hair again. You really want to scoot forward and comfort him, but at this point, you’re not sure that you’re allowed. “I... I know we already did all this, and the entire time I’ve been beating myself up for pushing you into it.”

“But you didn’t!” you try to interject, but Dave raises a hand to stop you.

“I did. Like a huge asshole, I pushed you into it every single time. And each time you told me to stop at first, and then you just... gave in. Like you decided it’d be easier and faster if you just let me have my way. And I tried to convince myself that it was okay. If you were going through an experimental phase, maybe it’d just be better to get it out of the way fast, and if you moved on, changed your mind again, you’d only rip me apart a little than if we took our time and I let myself get really attached.”

“Dave,” you tried to interrupt, but your throat feels tight, his name barely squeaked out. Your chest hurt with a mixture of cold dread and hot anger.

“But this...” Dave presses on, “if we did this, and then you changed your mind... I don’t know if I could deal with that, Egbert. I don’t know how well I'd handle the aftermath.”

It was like someone suddenly told you the sky was actually sherbet orange instead if blue. For what felt like a small eternity all you can do is stare at Dave as he scrubbed his face with a fist, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. This... wasn't the Dave you grew up knowing on the internet. This was... the Dave you always knew was hiding deep down inside. You just never thought you get to see this Dave. At least not anytime soon...

"Is that... why you always made sure that you were usually the one doing everything?" it made a strange sort of sense when you thought about it like that. "Why you were so shocked every time I wanted to make you feel good, too?"

Dave doesn't answer, but that's sort of an answer in and of itself.  
You can't believe that this is where things had led to. Your amazing seduction skills had led you down this road of uncertainty and doubt. With Dave not able to even look at you while pretty much every negative emotion you'd ever felt decided to have a convention in the pit if your stomach, and oops, they caused a traffic jam in your throat on the way down.

"Dave, I..." he won't even look at you while you talk to him.  
Oh, screw this!

You shove your boyfriend over. Hard. Hard enough that he nearly topples off the bed, his top half of his head hanging off the foot of the bed, but it leaves him where you want him, sprawled out on his back where you can now straddle his hips. And you do, pouting down at shocked, crimson eyes.

"Dave," you voice is carefully neutral, and it's enough to get Dave's full attention on you. Because you weren't him, careful neutrality wasn't your gimmick, "How long have we known each other?"

"I, wha-?" Dave stumbles over his own words, but you just glare/sulk at him until he finally answers, "Since we were eleven. So about six years now."

"Right," you agree with a nod of your head, "Six years. That‘s a freakishly long time, Dave, almost a third my life. Basically, the only person I've known longer than you is my own dad. Jade and Rose not included since we all got to know each other at the same time and I haven't met either of them in person." You wave your hand away like you're trying to brush off the details, "So that being the fact, don't you think that by now you’d know me better than to be the guy that pulls a summer camp experimental phase with you? Do you really think that I'm that sort of guy?"

He doesn't answer you right away and it's all you can do to keep from slugging him. "No, man. But--"

"No buts!" You tap a finger to his lips, silencing him. "I gotta admit, yeah. I probably made this harder than it had to be. I was pretty stubborn about the not gay thing... I was so deep in denial that I convinced myself it had to be the truth and never questioned it again for years. But do you really think I'm the type of guy who'd start online dating my very best friend just to try on the gay life and see if it fit? Months of just talking about shmoopy things online like a lovesick preteen girl before finding out for sure whether I knew if that's what I wanted or not? That I'd be so thoughtless about your feelings that I'd do that to you? You don’t think two months plus six years is enough to get too attached for just a trial and error run? Because I think it is"

Dave wasn't holding your gaze anymore, "It just... seemed too good to be true otherwise," he said quietly.  
You sigh and curl over him, resting your forehead on his, your voice just bove a whisper, "Dave, you're my best friend. You've been my best friend before I even cared about what sex was. I would never risk our friendship like this if I wasn't absolutely sure it's what I really wanted. Are you really going to give me a hard time forever just because I wasn't sure about my sexuality from the beginning? Gonna punish our relationship by putting 'temporary' labels on it and keep me at arm’s length when things start to get too serious?"

"Are we really gonna have this conversation right now, like this? Because while I do appreciate your naked, righteous wiggling, it's a real distraction," Dave was deflecting the conversation, hands calloused from years of sword play smoothing down your sides, your hips, and lower, making himself the real distraction. He was avoiding having to spill his own guts back to you, but you could see the tension had drained from his shoulders. What you had said had been enough to ease his worries. That was almost enough to let him get away from having to reciprocate your feelings verbally.

Almost.

"Dave!" You pap his hands away, "This is serious!" He wasn't getting out of this that easily. He started it, he'd finish it.

“What? Are you saying that the window of opportunity to partake of John Egbert’s sweet, forbidden fruits has passed?”

You pap his face this time.

“Hey, watch the goods, Egbert,” Dave tries to push your hands away, but all he accomplishes is starting a swatting contest between the two of you that ends with you pinned under him again, breathless and laughing.

You smile up to him, feeling everything inside you warm up at once when Dave smiles back, however lightly. How could there be any doubt to anyone that you were serious about Dave when just his smile turns your insides to warm jello? You lean up, like you were going to kiss those smiling lips, then you pap his cheek and fall back against the mattress with a teasing grin, loving the way his nose crinkled up for you.

"I just spilled my guts to you, now it's your turn!"

“No one called a feelings jam to session, your request is null and void. But if there are other things you wanted to do. Things we were doing just a little while ago, I’d be more than happy to accommodate you for that.” Dave’s hips grind down on your own, his length rubbing against your own, returning your flagged interest. You’re tempted to let him get away with it, but no. Not today.

You pap his face again.

“God dammit, Egbert,” Dave grouses.

“You started this, Dave. Now we have to finish it,” you reply haughtily.

“It’s already finished, Egbert.”

“Dave.”

“John.”

“Oh my god, Dave! Would it really kill you to talk about this a little?“

“I already said all I had to say on the matter,” Dave sits back again, leaving you feeling cold without his body heat to blanket you. You sit up after him, grabbing onto his wrist to make sure he didn’t try to bail on you. He could break your hold easily, but he gives you a look like a trapped, feral cat, and you know he’s not going anywhere.

“I knew I had a crush on you since we were twelve years old. And at first I was just gonna leave it at that, I almost did leave it at that, but it just got worse the older I got. And I started dropping hints. And you... instead of picking up the bread crumbs and following them to grandma’s house, you decided that all those bread crumbs were a bromance unlike any other and you ran with it. It was like the biggest fucking hint. And I took it.

“Or I was gonna take it, but instead I just sort of went along with you, see how much you’d let me get away with in the name of bromance. Thinking that maybe you felt the same way, but you were testing me. I kinda liked the idea of dancing around each other until one of us had irrefutable proof. It’s like something out of one of Vantas’s romcoms. Or maybe like Inu Yasha or something.”

“Which one of us would be Kagome?” You hate yourself the moment the words are out of your mouth, but you just couldn’t help it.

“No, shut up. We’re not going there. And I would totally be Inu Yasha,“ Dave flicks the subject away with a quick hand gesture. “The point is, this went on for years, John. Years. And the fateful day that will forever be known as 'No Homo Day,' didn’t even happen until I was fifteen years old, and you told me that Vantas revealed romantic intentions towards you. And first I freaked that I’d held back too long and I’d lose you to Karkat, but it was even worse, having to live with the bombshell that you weren’t gay after all. That all the playful flirting and the hints and the gestures had all been in my head.”

“Dave...”

He doesn’t let you cut him off, “Do you remember what happened after that, John? That I told you Bro was taking me on an ironic hiking trip for spring break and that I wouldn’t be able to talk to you at all until I got back?“

You nod, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Complete fabrication. Never happened. I had to get my shit together if I wanted to salvage our friendship from myself and my rebuffed first love emotions. Anyways, after that it took a while for me to feel normal with you on the inside. I guess in a way I never really did get used to it. But I learned how to deal with it without making things weird between us. And then I met Tavros.”

You hope that Dave didn't notice that way you tense up at the mention of his relationship with Tavros. If he did, he was much better at hiding it than you were.

"And things were nice with Tavros, they were good, comfortable, it made things with you easier, too. But... I guess I always knew it wasn't a permanent thing with Tavros. I think he knew it, too. That's why neither one of us wanted to try the long distance thing when it came time for him to pack up and move out with his old man again," Dave shrugs, like the near year he had been with Tavros wasn't a big deal at all.

"And well... it was months after that that you suddenly gave that hint of irrefutable proof that I had been waiting for since I was thirteen years old. At first I thought I was dreaming. I think it's the only reason I had the balls to take that hint and follow it back to you. Sometimes It still feels like it can't be real. And then you wanted to come here for a visit and holy shit, that could only mean that you wanted to take our relationship to the next level."

You blush, nodding lightly.

Dave runs his fingers through his hair, "Shit, so that really was it. Bet you weren't expecting the visit straight out of a porno, huh?"

"Well... no, not really," you smile sheepishly, "And yeah, my initial reaction was to freak out, but if I wanted you to stop, I would have stopped you, Dave. And I know that if you knew I really meant no with no ifs, ands, or buts, that you would have stopped yourself, too. All I had to do was tell you to, right?"

Dave doesn't answer verbally, but he nods and you offer him a smile.

"So then... everything is okay now?" the uncertainty in his voice makes you lean forward and kiss him.

He hesitates at first, one, two, three beats, then the world blurs and you find yourself flat on your back again while Dave spreads your legs open and over until your knees are at your ears. Fucking flash stepping ninja. You never should have showed him you could do that. You make a sound of protest and he withdraws just as fast.

"Oh shit, sorry... I... I should have asked... Umm... I guess the moment’s passed now, huh?" He's mumbling.

You give him a look and let go of the tension on your legs, lowering them back to the bed, having to spread them open wide to get around Dave, giving him quite the view. You blush, but try to remain composed, "I... I wouldn’t say that. But a little warning would have been nice." You yank him down for another kiss.

It's slow and simmering, gradually rebuilding the heat between the two of you. His body fits against your own amazingly, sun kissed and warm as it covered your own peachy pale. Hard muscle covered in warm satin decorated with the smaller, ridged puckers of scars from sword strifes. You traced those scars with fingertips, every single one within your reach, enjoying the way Dave‘s muscles would tense under your hands before going loose again.

You lose yourself in just this, kissing Dave, touching him, exploring his back and arms, feeling those rough hands investigating your own body, embarrassed by how soft you were compared to him. Not fat, but lacking definition, plus your stomach had a bit of pudge to it. Dave didn't seem to care that you're not the sculpted Adonis he is. Crazily enough, he seems to like your body exactly as it is. The calloused pad of his thumb slides over your chest, tugging at a nipple and you moan into his mouth. It was the wrong (right) thing to do. Having found a weakness, he sets his near full attention on it, pinching and tugging at the sensitive bud of flesh until it tingled, nearly numb, swallowing every mewl, moan, and whine you gave like it was his oasis. All while his other hand slid further south between your bodies, smoothing down your belly until the long digits wrapped around both of your lengths with a soft squeeze, sucking the moan directly out of you.

Minutes pass, hours maybe, and you break the battle between your lips and tongues, gasping raggedly, the air feeling cold down your airway when it wasn’t mingled with Dave’s breath. “Dave, nnnh! God, Dave, please. I...” you swallow hard, “I want... need you... please?” You’re not sure if he’ll deny you again, if he’ll draw away, even though it hadn’t looked like it before.

“A-are you sure?” the stutter in his voice is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

You nod, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “I’m sure. I want to— I want to do this with you.”

Dave kisses you then, hard at fast, desperate, wanting everything from you,but it simmers down gradually to something warm and butterfly inducing. Or maybe that was just your nerves. You couldn’t deny you were nervous. All your explorations had proven that you could like this sort of thing, but what if this was too much? And what if you did it wrong? What if you decided you didn’t like it? Would Dave stay with someone who wouldn’t go all the way with him and for how long?

Rough but careful fingers rubbed the tension out of your shoulders and you realized only then that Dave had stopped kissing you.

“John...?” Dave was so expressive without the shield of his aviators. You can see the worry clear in his eyes, in the furrowing of his brow. You wonder if he knows that about himself. You weren't going to risk telling him in case he didn't.

"I'm okay," you reply quickly, but that answer didn't seem to satisfy your boyfriend, so you sigh and clarify, "I'm nervous, if you asked me a year ago if I would ever be begging my best friend to stick his dick up my butt I would have had a good, long, and hardy laugh. That we’re here feels like I suddenly stepped into Twilight Zone."

"We don't have to--" Dave starts to draw back, but you grab onto his shoulders.

"No, don't! I... It makes me nervous, but I want to. I want to do this and you already showed me that I could like it."

"We can wait until you're completely ready," Dave says, but h= e doesn’t try to pull away from you this time, his thumb rubbing soothing c= ircles against your hip. “I don’t want you to regret this later, I want you to remember it positively.”

"I am ready. If you wanna wait until I'm not nervous we might wait forever," you tug him forward, your hand sliding down his arm to take hold of his hand by the wrist, leading it down between your legs, silently insisting that he start touching you again. "Or you might wake up one day to find me trying to impale myself on you in your sleep."

The Strider sucked in a sharp breath, hummed in approval, a low, rasping sound like a purr, "Feel free to do that anytime you want, anyways. I encourage it, even. You can be the best fucking alarm clock I've ever had."

You snort softly, "Literally. But no promises. If I can ever get you ready for sleep sex without waking you up, we'll see where it goes from there. Mmmn," you suddenly bit back a soft moan as you settle Dave's hand between your legs, palm cradling your sac, fingertips pressed once again at your entrance, still tingling and sensitive from the special lube Dave had used.

Dave moans back in answer, fingers curling in, pressing, rubbing, teasing. He touches almost every part of you... d-down there. Every sensitive muscle unused to foreign touch, barely used to your own touch. His fingers are gentle, giving you just a bit of what you want, a sampling. But you need so much more.

Your hook your legs to his waist at the knee, tugging at his shoulders again. "Dave, please! I'm gonna... l-like this if you keep that up."

"God, it’d be worth it," Dave groans, understanding what you meant. He presses a fingertip in teasingly, as if trying to make sure your body is still stretched from before, but then he draws his hand away, taking a long, keening whine from your throat with him.

He sits back on his haunches, you miss his heat already, and he reaches across to his nightstand, rummaging the top drawer until he comes away with his prize. A string of condoms.

"You kept those?" you ask, a bit incredulously, eyebrow quirked up. It seemed to you that the length of them seemed to be substantially shorter than your memory said they should be.

"Yeah, I was flip flopping about whether or not to buy these at all for your visit. Bro decided to err on the side of caution for me, but then I told myself I wasn’t gonna use them on you," the blond admits as he picks a foil wrapped package and tears it away from the rest, “Not that I meant I‘d go without them if we needed them, but that we wouldn’t have to need them at all, you get me?” he blathers on, and you smile to see him nervous, glad you weren’t the only one. That’s right. This was Dave’s first time, too. "Used a few on a couple of test runs. They don't really teach you how to use these, at least they don't around here. Thank fuck for the internet."

"When did you find the time to do it?" and why hadn't you noticed it?

"Oh, you know. When you showered, when you ogled Bro for half an hou- hey!" Dave yelps indignantly when you grabbed a pillow to smack him with.

"Are you still going on about your brother? You're obsessed!"

"Said the pot to the kettle," Dave murmurs back. You ignore him.

He picks up the bottle of lube and drizzles it over his length, stroking himself a few times to spread it over in its entirety, and a few more times just because it felt good, you were sure of it. He was bigger than you, longer by about an inch and a half, not that you measured. It curves just a little and darkens to an angry looking red at the tip. He picks at a corner of the foil until he manages to open it, extracting the rolled up condom, and then with careful movements, rolls it down the length of his shaft. 

You're fixated on the sight, how it glides over the flushed, pulsing flesh, trapping it in a shiny film. You swallow hard, licking your suddenly dry lips, in a few moments that was going to be inside you, and the craziest part was that you actually wanted it to be. How would it feel? All you can imagine is a strange pressure on your insides. It's still enough to make your body shiver and your muscles clench. Your vision suddenly jumps up to meet Dave's gaze, blushing brighter when you realize he caught you staring at his dick, that knowing smirk silently taunting you

He just huffs a small laugh and adds extra lube to the rubber. Your heart hammers in your chest, trying to escape you, run around the room like your nerves were making you want to do, but you just breathe deep and you look up at Dave helplessly. He looks just as nervous as you do, and yet he isn’t really shaking at all. The blonde's hands smooth up your legs, tickling the back of your knees, making you squirm, sliding up to your thighs.

"John," his voice is a low husk, a bare whisper, as he moves over you again, between your legs, lifting each one to rest at his waist. He lifts your hips, placing a pillow under you before easing you down again. It felt a little silly, but you realize it left you in a more comfortable position for him to work with.

"J-just how much h-have you read into this?" you couldn't kee= p the hint of amusement out of your shaky voice.

"Thank fuck for the internet," Dave murmurs again in answer. He grips your hip with one hand, sliding down to the back of your thigh to push it back towards your chest, leaving you more open and vulnerable, and with the other he guides himself in the right way as thigh muscles flex and he positions himself.

And then you feel him press against you, muted heat, still searing, thick and solid and wide, so wide, thicker than his fingers, just pressing against you down there. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a second you're sure your heart actually exploded out of your chest. This was it. He hadn't even pushed in yet, but you clamp your eyes shut in embarrassment, and reach up for him, wrap your arms around his neck tight, pulling him down to you and hiding your face against his throat.

"Breathe," you hear a soft voice against your ear, "relax and breathe."

Dave's thumb rubs soothing circles against your hip until you remember how to breathe again. You whine and nuzzle his throat.

"S-sorry, sorry. I’m sorry. Please... Don't stop." Your voice is high pitched and desperate and scared and anxious and excited all balled up into a wad of nerves.

Dave doesn't answer you, just very slowly presses forward again. You feel it, the start of pressure, his body seeking entrance into your own. It just feels weird at first, but then it stops just pressing, starts to actually push in, and it feels like there’s no way it could fit, but then it does. Your breath chokes in your throat and you know your nails are digging crescents onto Dave's back. Big, it's so big! Stretching you wide to the point where you think it might actually rip you in half, and it's just the tip! Just the tip...! You bite your lip to keep from crying out too loudly, and you hold Dave to you tighter, not wanting him to suddenly draw away. You didn't want him stop halfway; you'd lose your nerve entirely.

“Fffffu-ngh!” a low hiss hitches into a strangled moan, and it takes you a moment to realize that the sound came from Dave and not you. He isn’t much better off in terms of coherency. “Tight... so tight, gripping me, John. Oh god, John! Fuck shit holy damn, I can’t. Too... too mu-- Relax, you have to relax, baby. Breathe...”

You do as he says, sucking in deep breaths, willing your body to relax. You don’t know if it works, but you feel Dave ease in deeper anyways. Slowly, carefully, like he's afraid you'll come part in his hands. You feel the slight difference once he gets past the first ring of muscles and you suck in a harsh breath.

Dave stills then, his entire body nothing but tightly corded muscles gone ramrod steel. You can feel the hard muscles of his shoulder blades twitching under your fingertips. His body leans over yours again, covering you protectively with sweat slick skin and burning heat. His breath is harsh against your ear, but his hand is gentle as it cups your cheek, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

Your breathing is still coming in fast, harsh pants, pulsing waves of dulling pain racing up your back. But the moment you look into the blonde’s eyes, everything else seems to fall away. The way Dave is looking at you makes your heart skip a beat, and it’s all you can do to hold his gaze.

“God, do you have any idea how beautiful you look right now?”

“Ah,” your lips part to reply, you don’t even know what, but all that comes out is an embarrassing little squeak.

Dave smiles then, a soft, but full smile, and he leans down to brush his lips against your own, “What’s the matter, Egbert? Left you speechless already?”

You can’t even find the wherewithal to snark back at him. He rocks his hips forward shallowly, pressing in a bit deeper and you gasp, a soft cry catching in your throat. It... didn’t hurt much, mostly it felt weird. You were already stretched open for him, the worst part over. But he eases in deeper and you feel the push and pull between your bodies, and it doesn’t feel bad. Not bad, just weird, so weird, but... but...

“Mmn, Dave,” his name slips out soft and low and long, shivering from your lips, and your hips twitch and squirm anxiously.

“John,” Dave breathes out in answer, and he grips your shoulders tight from under your arms. Pulling you forward, he grounds down, pressing your bodies flushed together all at once.

"Aa-AAAHN!" His hips are ground in flat against the back of your thighs and he's inside you, fully inside you. You can feel him pulse through you, his heartbeat becoming your own. It almost hurts, but it doesn't. Your full, it's strange, and weird, almost like it felt when he slipped a finger in for the first time, but nothing like it at the same time. Just... strange, nice, warm.

He's still again, and his breathing is hard. You've never heard Dave breathe this hard, deep desperate inhales of air, exhaled with the softest sound of your name, like you were the one driving him crazy. Your heart skips a beat, muscles jumping, and his groan becomes louder, the answering throb making you squirm and shift back against him. It was like every action and reaction was connected between you, like you had forged a deeper link between the two of you than simple sexually.

It was the cue to both of you that it was okay to move now.

It's awkward, weird, out of synch at first, fumbling lurches and thrusts as you learned how to move together. It doesn't work and you can't help the wheezy little chuckle that escapes you at how hopeless the two of you actually are.

You stop, you both stop, looking at each other, shy embarrassment. His poker face cracks first with a small twitch of his lips, nose crinkling. Then you're both laughing, soft, breathy sounds, and all the remaining tension melts away. You opt out of moving for right now and Dave's lips mold against your own so perfectly, wet, warm, a little chapped. It's nice, it's familiar, tingling pleasure and building heat as your tongues slide and rub together, dueling for the dominance he already has over you that you weren't giving up without a fair fight. You press up, wanting to feel closer, feeling the shift deep inside. You both moan.

It starts again, slower this time. Dave draws back, and so do you, as much as you can. He rocks back in and your grind your hips against his, tearing ragged gasps and hiccupping keens loose from your throat. It's friction, heat, soft pulsations, and it starts to feel good. Just really so good... You’re crooning against Dave's mouth and you have to pull away to gasp when he shifts and sinks in deeper still.

Each movement, each sway and shake is different as you learn together what feels good, what feels best. Dave is amazing, way too amazing for this to really be his first time. He pays attention to everything you do, even the slightest sound you make, learning what you liked most fast and drowning you in it. No hesitation, he just feels and lets you feel, and it’s so amazing. He twists his hips, drives in deep, and it's like stars explode into life across your vision. You think you might have screamed, but all sound was drowned out by a white wash of rushing noise.

"Found it," Dave's voice husks breathlessly against your ear.

Your eyes widen, lips parting, about to say who knows what, but it drowns away, giving way to another cry as your entire world quakes in an absolutely indescribable way.

"DAVE!"

The last, taught string tying you to coherency snaps and the scope of your entire world narrows down to you and Dave, anchored there by your arms. His beautiful face flushed above you, glistening skin and disheveled pale gold locks, and just so perfect. To the point where your bodies are joined and he funnels pleasure straight up your spine in colorful bursts with each rock of his hips, his heat burying itself inside you over and over again in alternating shallow and deep thrusts, burning you alive from the inside out.

And he’s shaking on top of you, body flushed, lips moving, but you can't hear the words, they hardly matter. You babble his name back at him, any word that surfaces in your mind and you cling to him tight. You do your best to move with him, against him, wanting more, needing to feel closer to him, to feel him, drown in him and everything he makes you feel.

It builds, fire and heat, rising waves crashing down, creating flash hot steam and bringing the world to a boil. It builds higher and higher with each passing second, and you can feel yourself rising to the edge.

"Dave! Nmmm! Auhn! Dave, Dave I- aah! I'm! Oh god please, I'm-!!!"

You think you might have heard him moan your name and tell you to do it. You might have imagined it. Either way, there was no way you could have held back any longer.

All your muscles feel pulled tight, like you’re ready to burst into motion, ready to explode into a million tiny pieces. Dave draws back, far, far back, and for a second you feel empty, bereft, left hanging in the wind, cold and abandoned. And then he thrusts back in hard. A strangled cry rasps it's way out of your throat, past widely parted lips as your body goes taught like a tightly pulled bow. And then your string is released. Euphoria crashes painfully through your veins and floods your mind, blinding you with pure white.

It spirals and you can’t tell if you’re free falling into the void, or shooting up into the sun, but you want it to never finish, but you need to reach the end before it actually kills you.

The crash is surprisingly soft.

The next thing you're aware of is Dave's weight heavy on top of you, breathing hard for oxygen your body has forgotten how to distribute, and meeting glazed red eyes in time to see them close as Dave's lips meet your own. It’s wet and sloppy, so uncoordinated, and the best kiss you’ve had with him so far. Your body feels strange, heavy, and at the same time empty, and you pull Dave down harder against you to make up for the loss.

“I love you,” one of you mumbles, and you can’t be sure who it is.

“Love you, too,” comes the reply and it actually doesn’t matter who said it.

You make a soft, breathless sound like a laugh when the world spins and you become Dave’s blanket. You smile, and he returns it, and as if your bodies were still synchronized from your connection already broken, you both move together so that your lips brush soft and light, and then you cuddle together on the bed.

-

Your name is Dirk Strider, colloquially known simply as Bro. And you hadn't actually meant to listen into the sacred event that had just occurred on the other side of your wall. You're sure the twist in your gut is guilt for not giving your brother and his lover the privacy their first time deserved. And probably worse that you hadn't even tried to control your own body's reaction, either, from the natural arousal to the completely voluntary relieving of said arousal.

It was probably also wrong that your fantasies starred your own little brother with you along with John. Dr. Freud would probably have a few choice things to say to you on the matter. But you shrug it off, because fantasies were just fantasies and everyone was entitled to them. You knew the difference between imaginary spank material and things that you should actually never act on for the sake of the sanity of the people you actually care about.

But either way, you make your decision as you try to go back to sleep and worry more about it later. Or maybe not worry about it at all ever. Today you’ll leave your brother and his boyfriend alone. No teasing, no feather ruffling, no jimmy rustling. If you had things your way they wouldn't even be aware of your presence in the apartment at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for this chapter, but I just loved the idea of semi-awkward first time and then the feels sort of invaded the story all on their own.
> 
> Hope I'm not disappointing anyone with this turn of events!
> 
> Only the epilogue left now.


	3. Epilogue: There goes the future Mrs. Strider.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of first time sex, quality time with the Striders, and then a goodbye.

Your name is John Egbert, and you think you might never be able to look at your boyfriend in the eye again. And yes, you are fully aware of how ridiculous you are being.

At first, Dave had just laughed at you even as he tried to soothe your shyness away, smoothed his hands over the fringe of your hair, trying uselessly to tame it, stroking fingers along the back of your ear, your neck, rubbing soothing circles into your skin as he tried to get you to calm down. But the longer you ducked your face away from his line of sight, the less funny it seemed. 

“You... don’t... regret it, do you?” he suddenly asks.

“What?” your head shoots up and oh... well, you’re looking at him now, blushing face and all “NO! Of course not! Don’t make me pap you Dave, I will.”

The blond snorts softly, visibly relaxing, “I don’t care what Vantas says, papping is never becoming a thing, let it go, Egbert.”

You stick your tongue out at him in answer, the epitome of maturity, John Egbert.

“But really, no regrets? None at all?” you want to take the uncertainty in his voice and throw it out the window of his high rise apartment.

“Oh my god, Dave.”

“What? It was a big fucking step, okay? I mean, even I’m wondering if maybe we moved too fast,” the last part is mumbled.

You feel ice water flood your stomach all at once, “D-do you... regret it...?”

“What?" Dave tilts his head enough to look at you, "Nah man, I’m not saying that because of me, I mean for your sake, hey!" You hit Dave with a pillow, "Is that anyway to treat your beau when he’s worried about you?” he grouses.

“I’m telling you, Dave. I’m fine! I’m more than fine! I’m great! Aching butt notwithstanding,” you lean over and brush your lips against the corner of his mouth. It’s all so sweet and shmoopy, and you’re pretty sure Dave enjoys the affections unironically more than he lets on.

"I get why you're worried, though,” you went on once you had settled yourself back on your stomach. 

"John, don't," Dave grumbles, and you know he's probably sick and tired of the whole feelings jam. But you really felt the air had to be cleared before the two of you could fully relax and move on.

“I mean, you’re worried I might not have been gay, and then what would happen to us after this?" you shrug your shoulders lightly, peeking a glance at him shyly. "But you're the one who doesn't get something, a smile tugging at your lips to see that Dave was already looking back at you. It doesn't matter to me that you're a guy, Dave. Or if you were a girl. I like you because you're... Dave... You're you and you've been my best bro since we were eleven. Nothing could compete with that, okay? I didn't know how I felt until way after I realized that it'd be so easy for you to just forget me forever and move on with your life."

"I wouldn't--" Dave starts, but you shake your head.

"Even after all our years knowing each other, internet friendships can fizzle up and die anytime. For no actual explainable reason. And then we'd just... Never talk again, no trace left of what we had once. I realized that when you started spending all your time with Tavros. I... I got really jealous, I guess. I didn't want to lose you to some guy you just met months ago, when I’ve known you so much longer!"

"You were jealous of Tavros?"

"Dave, shoosh!" You cover his mouth with your hand. "At first I thought it was because I was losing my best friend, but then you started telling me about the times the two of you did stuff and I got so mad. Did I ever tell you I went out and got myself a girlfriend for a couple of months when you were dating Tavros?"

Only silence answered you, but the look in Dave's eyes reminds you that you're the idiot who has his mouth covered.

"Oh, right," oops. You don't remove your hand, though. "Well, yeah. Her name was Vriska. We had Public Speaking together last semester. She was kinda bossy and pushy, but once you got to know her, she was really sweet. It was nice, at first. Whenever you were busy with Tav, I'd go out with her. But I guess I just wasn't getting into it like I was supposed to. And she noticed a few things..."

Dave's eyebrow quirks up and you nod.

"Things, like how many pics I had of you on my computer, you know, from our swaps, but I told her it was just normal pictures, I don't know why she made such a big deal about them. And I guess I'd talk about you a bit, anyways. But, I mean. We're best bros, of course I'd talk about you, right? I've only known you since forever. So one day she showed up at my place and her hair was a lot shorter and blonde, and she was wearing a pair of ray bans."

"Uh mmm gff," Dave muffles from under your hand.

"I know, right?" you nod your head in agreement. “She just hauled up and kissed me, and oh my god, it was the craziest kiss we ever had. I really got into it for once, and I thought maybe things would finally start to get better. But then she stopped and she was so mad she decked me, and right then and there she broke up with me saying that she wasn't going to be someone's replacement or their beard. I had no idea what she meant.”

Dave licks the palm of your hand then, “Jesus Christ, John. How dense can you be?” he says after you yelp indignantly and move your hand away from his mouth.

“Well I realize it now!" you say sulkily, wiping your hand on Dave's bare chest.

"HEY!" Dave tries to cringe back away from you until he nearly falls off the bed.

"But back then, I don’t know..." you went on normally, "I guess I didn‘t want to think about it. But that incident with Vriska sort of made me have to really think about it.” You hum thoughtfully, “You were always busy with Tavros, so I doubt you even noticed the few days when I barely talked to you at all. I spent all my time talking with Jade and Rose.”

“Oh my fuck, please tell me you didn’t,” Dave’s voice is already heavy with resignation, because he knows you had.

You laugh sheepishly, “Yeah, I told them everything about what I was thinking and how I felt, put up with Rose’s psychobabble for two whole days, Dave. It was... really confusing and annoying, but it helped, I think. And Jade was the one who got me to stop being a pussy about it and admit how I felt after you and Tavros broke it off.”

“Where the hell was I for all of this?”

“Learning how to suck a dick, probably,” oops, your voice came out a bit curter than you wanted it to, which was not at all.

“Jealousy is an ugly thing, Egbert,” Dave nudges your shoulder with his. Laying across his narrow bed side by side like this was a bit of a tight fit, but you think you were both comfortable with the closeness.

You shove him back, “So are you in a g-string.”

His mock gasp makes you giggle, “You take that back!”

“Make me!”

With a quick roll that you couldn't even follow, he straddles your waist and shoves a pillow over the back of your head, forcing your face down against another.

You flail your arms and kick your legs, trying to squirm your way down to free your head or find enough of Dave to shove him away from you. In the end you manage the latter, hearing a loud thump when Dave falls off the bed and his ass hits the air mattress with enough force that his hip checks the floor and the valve on the mattress pops loose and starts to deflate.

“Fuck!”

You laugh again, huffy and breathless when you managed to sit up, taking a bit of effort with the little stabs of pain that rush up your spine. It wasn't really painful, it was more like the soreness you get after an intense work out. You do your best to ignore it, grab Dave’s pillow and chuck it at his face while he was down there.

“Oh that’s it, you’re asking for it, Egbert.”

“Whatcha gonna do about it, Strider,” you smirk cockily. "Oh shit!" Oh right, you thought to yourself when you suddenly find yourself in a headlock, your making friends with Dave’s armpit, Strider speed is a thing.

“Say uncle,” Dave crows as he noogies your already impossibly messy hair.

“Are you kidding me?” is your indignant reply as you tried to pull your head free.

“What? I saw this on those old nineties TV shows, it’s ironic,” Dave says and you’re pretty sure, now more than ever, that irony, in the case of the Striders, was just an excuse that allows Dave and his brother to do completely ridiculous and stupid, dorky things and get away with it while still holding onto their self-imposed title of 'cool’.

“Oh my GOD, Dave! Let go! Your pit is rank!“

“You’re no bouquet of roses yourself there, honey,” when did Dave become a sassy woman? You think this might be where you draw the line.

He has a point, though. The entire room was filled with both your pungent scents. You pinch Dave’s side and ignore the scandalized yelp and the way the blond jumps away from you like a scalded cat. “You’re right. I should take a shower,” you’d been holed up in his room for more than half the day now after all. And even if Dave had his room fully stocked with days’ worth of snacks and juices, you wanted something substantial to eat now, too.

Dave rubs at his abused side, but the sulk was already ebbing away from his features, and you’d say his face was back to its neutral, cool setting, if it wasn’t for the hint of a blush on his cheek.

“Can I come, too?”

Your own face fills with red, you’re sure of it. “I... uh...” you’re even more embarrassed that your immediate response isn’t 'no!' But then why should it be? And why shouldn't it be? Did you want to share a shower with Dave? It wasn’t like there was any part of you he hadn’t seen already. But there was also the fact that if you said yes, chances were you’d both be in there doing WHO KNOWS what until the water ran cold (you knew. You knew exactly what you’d be doing in there).

“Ah... maybe next time,” you feel like a heel when Dave fights so hard to not look crestfallen. “I’m actually really hungry, and I know that if you follow me in there we’ll be there until sundown.”

There is the barest upward tick to Dave’s lips and you know his ego feels better.

You roll over him, landing on the floor in a crouch with only the smallest wince. The air mattress is completely deflated now, and you snort softly as you reach past it to grab a pair of boxers. Turns out they’re Dave’s. You realize that when you have to hold them to keep them on. Oh well, good enough.

"So, did it really take your exgirlfriend cutting her hair and dying it blonde for you to finally want to get in the mood with her?" Dave asks as he stretches out at length across the bed.

You roll your eyes, "It was a wig, actually."

"So how much did she look like me?" he's getting really smug now.

"Well she did have your delicate cheekbones and long, girly lashes," you hum thoughtfully.

"Bet she looked hot," Dave said, undeterred.

You roll your eyes again, "She was almost as much of a beautiful princess as you, Dave."

"But that's the thing, Egbert. I ain't no little princess, I'm a fucking empress. Of course there's no fucking way a mere princess could stand up to the likes of me."

"Whatever you say, your majesty," you laugh and bow with a sweeping flourish of your hand, only to yelp and duck down when you dropped the hold on Dave's boxers. Ow, that tugged at sore muscles!

"Damn straight" Dave smirked, his eyes roving across your crouched body shamelessly.

“By the way, you’re not allowed to flash step when we do things like this anymore,” you grouse softly when you straighten. Your backside hurt, though it was a bearable level, you think you might have rushed into things just a little bit in the long run.

Dave chuckles and lounges back across the middle of the narrow bed that he now had all to himself again, “You say that now, but I bet I can make you beg me to use flash step during sex.”

“I really doubt that,” you mutter as you shuffle your way to the door in your best attempt not to waddle.

“Care to make it a bet?" he waggles his eyebrows, "I can show you later.”

“If later is after I shower, eat, and take some aspirin, then sure. Later," you're mostly just waving Dave off now.

Your only answer from Dave is a slow, predatory grin.

-

“Oh god! Oh! Oooh! Mmmnh-AAAH! Aa-aaaahn! OH MY GOD, DAVE!!!” 

You wake up at sundown to a wall shaking scream. Your name is Bro Strider and you smirk to yourself and silently congratulate your little brother on mastering flash step sex so quickly. You’ll give him the praise that deserves later, in the form of a Cal hug.

You order chinese for dinner that night and make the little shits sit with you in the kitchen for an ironic family meal. You vaguely remember making a promise to yourself to leave the squirts alone from now on this morning. Ah well, you can't listen to yourself when you're sleep deprived! 

Besides, right now you honestly wanted to tease the little prince of suburbia for the sake of teasing him and not to piss Dave off. You can only smirk to yourself when John refuses to meet your eye the entire time, his face a permanent cherry red. He knew that you knew, but he was pretty fucking brave to join you for dinner anyways. In all honesty, you had expected him to abscond with his own box of noodles and entrench himself in Dave's room until it was time to head back to Washington. 

You don't know if you're being merciful or sadistic to keep him waiting for a ball that was never going to drop. You weren't going to bring up his neighbor startling scream, but you were letting him know that you knew with little smirks and significant quirks of your brows throughout the meal. You were leaning towards merciful, but you doubt anyone would agree with you.

Dave acts like he doesn't notice anything is out of place, though when you offer your fist under the table, he bumps it without missing a beat. It was the first time the two of you had gotten along since Mr. Egbert walked into your apartment with his little suitcase on wheels.

-

Friday John and Dave have an all-day movie marathon. How they could stomach watching TV for that long is beyond you, but you suspect that it’s the fact that their eyes were never on the screen whenever you casually passed by the living room. Making out can have that affect. They only seem to somewhat behave themselves the few times you decide to sit down and join them throughout the day.

"What are we watching this time?" You ask as you situate yourself next to them with a bowl of popcorn that you had no intention of sharing.

"Con Air," John pipes back at you with an exuberant smile. God damn, the kid was too cute to be real.

You reach over and ruffle his hair, which earns you a laugh as the little brunette playfully slaps your hands away. 

It hits you about a second too late that this could end be taken badly, and had promised yourself you wouldn't tease Dave anymore.

But Dave doesn't lose his shit over the hair ruffling.

Dave been far more relaxed today than he’d been since his boyfriend arrived. Your little affection attack hadn't even so much as made him quirk a brow in your direction. Not a single feather ruffled, Dave's calm is solid. Gee, you could only wonder why that is.

"This movie blows," you say after about ten minutes. And only ten minutes because you had been willing to give this film the benefit of the doubt.

"SSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" John waves his hand in your direction, "Shut up, this movie is great! And this is the best part."

"They're all the best part," Dave replies snidely.

"SHOOSH!" John paps your brother's face.

"Is he for real?" you ask Dave over John's head.

"'Fraid so," Dave sighs a long suffering sigh and narrowly avoids a piano finger jab to his side. He grab's Egbert's finger and brings his hand up for an ironic, chivalrous back of the hand kiss. "John loves this shitty movie unironically."

"It's not shitty!" John is quick to defend his cinematic piece of fecal matter, pulling his hand free of Dave's hold, crossing his arms in a huff, and throwing quick sulking glares at both of you before his attention is fixated on the screen once again.

So that was John Egbert's flaw. He had horrible tastes in movies. And there was no getting him to reconsider his opinions, apparently. Oh well, you knew all along that no one could be that perfect.

You stay for another forty minutes of Con Air before you can't take it anymore and make a hasty getaway with the excuse that you had a few quick orders that needed filling. John sticks his tongue out at you, and you let them have your quickly staling popcorn.

You return a couple of hours later just in time to start watching Zoolander (and also in time to stop Dave just before he unbuttoned the fly of John's pants). A Ben Stiller movie, this had Dave's pick written all over it. 

You mock it openly.

Dave does a good job of being unaffected by your mocking. For about fifteen minutes. And then he tries to shove you away. He has to reach across John to do it.

"Hey!" John yelps.

You shove him back.

Dave reaches across John again to slug your shoulder, and you returned the favor. Each time the little brunette was squashed between your bigger bodies.

"Oh my fucking god! You can't be serious," John is not happy to find himself the center of this Strider sandwich. "No, fuck no. Fuck this. I'm not going to be your buffer." 

He grabs Dave and hauls him over himself to shove him at you so he could move to Dave's now vacated spot. God damn, but the was kid a lot stronger than he looked. In that moment of awed silence as your mind played John lifting Dave over him in slow motion you suddenly found Dave sprawled out over your lap, his face inches from yours.

For a beat all the two of you can do is gawk at each other, and you take in the way Dave's ears suddenly start turning red. Your hands automatically fall to Dave's hips, catching him and keeping his sudden weight from their attempt to crush your goods. But then you're just holding Dave to you, and he's not crushing you, but your bodies are pretty nicely pressed together. From this close you can see the shape of your brother's eyes from behind his shades and even your own. They're wide in shock, unblinking, staring straight back at you. He sucks in a harsh breath and your own eyes widen. Because you swear you just felt...

And from the corner of your eye, you think you see John smirk, but then he's laughing and it's silly and innocent, and he calls you both dorks. Whatever spell that had fallen between you and the younger blonde seems to break then, and you two break apart simultaneously. Dave sits back and rolls his eyes at John's laughter, shoving him by the shoulder lightly. He grabs the brunette by the arm again when John tries to shove him back, and yanks the smaller boy onto his lap for cuddling. Ironic or not, you can't blame him, the kid looks cuddly.

You can feel John's eyes constantly glancing your way for the rest of the movie well into the next. Failure to Launch. You swear, between these two, every shitty movie in the history of the existence was under your roof right now.

You order Moroccan for dinner that night, and you turn off your video and recording equipment when you leave to DJ at the club. You’d had your fun, it was time to really leave the lovebirds alone. It was their final night together for a long while, after all. But you had no doubt in your mind that winter break would bring Egbert's return. Or maybe Dave would want to experience an authentic white Christmas and you'd ship him north. Hell, maybe you'd go with him.

-

Saturday was a somber day in the Strider household. Dave helps John pack his things, and he doesn’t even try to hide or excuse their bouts of cuddles right in front of you. John’s flight leaves at three in the afternoon, so he insists at being at the airport by noon. Dave’s arguments that they can wait another hour fall on deaf ears. Poor kid.

But like the proper gentleman you raised him to be, Dave offers to take John’s bags down to your truck, and John stays behind to give the apartment a final walkthrough for anything he might have forgotten. They kiss at the door like even that much separation was painful for them. It probably was, what do you know? You felt more like a dirty voyeur being there for that than you had during the rest of the last two weeks combined.

John makes quick work of checking the apartment over for anything he might have forgotten, finding a sock that he stuffs quickly into his pocket.

Once he was sure he found all he was going to find, he walks up to you and for a moment just... stares... “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Strider,” John holds his hand out to you with a bright smile after a minute.

You quirk a brow at the twink’s direction. Didn’t he learn his lesson when he got here? You’re not a hand shaker. Your lack of response doesn’t seem to deter his smile in the slightest this time. He drops his hand and shrugs his shoulders fluidly turning on his heel to face the door.

“I just wanted to say thank you for letting me stay and bug your routine for two weeks."

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” is your automatic response, but John just smiles and shrugs his shoulders fluidly again. You feel a niggling sensation in the back of your mind. This... wasn’t the shy, polite little twink you’d been dealing with for the last two weeks. When he turns around to face you again you’re sure of it.

"It's John, remember?" he smiles, soft, sweet, and innocent. But there was something different about it now.

That smile is actually anything but innocent, “And I guess I should thank you for pushing all of Dave’s buttons all this week to get your porn fix,” your eyebrows shoot up above the rim of your shades, “And to get him to the point where I could nudge him to finally stop treating our relationship as a temporary thing. I really owe you a lot. Next time you should plan your pranks with me, we could make some really good ones.”

If you had been anyone else, your mouth may have been hanging open, as it is, you just stare at him silently for about a minute.

“Our first meeting...” you start.

John’s eyes go big and bright, “Oh wow, Mr. Strider, you’re so coooool!”

Holy fuck.

“Outside the bathroom...”

“’You have gorgeous eyes,’? Is that really the best line you can come up with?”

“You...”

“Timed it so Dave would catch you in the act, it’s what you wanted, right?” John shrugs one shoulder with a quirk of a smile

Shiiiiiit.

“The living room,” you start.

“Pull string tied to your shoe,” John finishes for you with a small laugh.

Oh shit... oh fuck.

John Egbert was smarter than either you or Dave gave him credit for. And he used that little advantage to play you both like suckers.

"Was any of it real?" you ask, glad that your voice gave away none of your shock.

"Oh, it was all real," John giggles, "The best pranks are so good because you tie them together with the truth."

I'll be damned.

"Does Dave know?" Were you the one who had been played all along?

"He's probably starting to suspect, but I don't think he's put all the pieces together just yet," John replies with a smile way too angelic for such a conniving little twat. Damn, what you'd do to really steal him from Dave right now. Just for a day. Put that little angel in disguise through his paces, teach him what it was really like to come apart at the seams.

You wouldn’t, though. And not just because Dave was outside, bringing your truck around to take the kid to the airport.

"So I guess I just wanted to say thank you for all that stuff," you're about to wave off his thanks with a simple 'don't even worry about it,' but John goes on, “And also: I know he's really cute, and oblivious, which makes him cuter, and you're living together and all that, but please don't do anything questionable to Dave after I leave, okay? At least without getting my permission first."

Wait.... what???

"And even then, I'd probably only agree if you let me watch," John's smile was like an angel's

He was implying not only that he thought you wanted to do the do with Dave, but that he'd be okay with it as long as you asked for his permission and let him watch. You have no idea whether or not he’s shitting with you, either.

He doesn't wait for your answer; he just bounces forward, kisses your cheek, "I'll see you later, Bro." He smiles, winks, and sees himself out, leaving you standing flabbergasted in your living room, no less sure whether or not this kid was playing with your head.

He had to be, because the alternative just blew your mind away.

Your mind reels as it tries to catch up with everything that just happened.

"Damn," that's the only answer you can come up with. You pull off your cap and run your fingers through your mussed hair. 

You walk towards the window in time to see a a mop of black hair get into your truck. 

And just like that, John Egbert was gone from your life again, but not before he made sure his presence was permanently engraved into your mind.

If Dave doesn't marry this kid someday, you will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was John serious? Was he? 
> 
> The world may never know.
> 
> That's all folks! I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this story. It was fun!

**Author's Note:**

> This story will be presented in two chapters + an epilogue! It was all supposed to be from Bro's point of view, but John has taken control of the second chapter.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! And I hope that you'll review if you can! Comments and reviews are my drug of choice! It keeps me motivated :3


End file.
